Clarity
by daenyri
Summary: Something unexplainable happens when Sam and Mercedes meet. Is it love? Is it fate? Maybe it's a bit of both, but to them, nothing is worth this kind of pain.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Clarity

**Pairing: **Sam/Mercedes

**Rating: **Mature

**Notes: **Hiiii… So I don't really know what this is specifically, but yeah. It's going to be a short story, maybe five or six chapters. I hope you like it. Also, I can't guarantee that it will be updated regularly. I've been wanting to better my talents and this is a part of that. I'm not too sure if I will keep up with it, but we'll see.

**Summary:** Something unexplainable happens when Sam and Mercedes meet. Is it love? Is it fate? Maybe it's a bit of both, but to them, _nothing_is worth this kind of pain.

* * *

Her eyes were burning and it felt like everything was melting around her, including time. The air smelled of smoke, a byproduct of the fire she was currently in, but Mercedes couldn't for the life of her figure out how to get out of it. She could die at any moment, and it terrified her.

At first the day had started like any other; she woke up, ate breakfast, went to her classes at NYU, came home, got ready for her performance at _TERRAIN_, the new club downtown that was quickly getting all of the attention in the city, and then... nothing. It had started in the floor below her. Mercedes had heard fighting steadily getting louder as she applied her mascara. The funny faces she made in the mirror as she attempted to make her eyelashes curl just the right way did nothing to ease the nerves that were settling into her stomach, and by the time she had finished with both of her eyes and was ready to grab her purse, that was when it happened. Smoke, the pungent smell filtering through both her nostrils and air vents crept closer to her, and the young woman of twenty-one could only guess as to what started it.

Looking back on it now, she wished she had called the cops as soon as the fighting downstairs had started. Maybe if she had, she would live to see the sunrise the next day? Maybe... It didn't matter now. What's done is done, and now Mercedes had to give the rest to God.

The sound of her coughing battled against the sound of the building fire around her, and in an attempt to survive just a little bit longer, she crawled to her window which was only a few feet away. Flames rose up behind her with every inch she took, and by the time Mercedes made it to the window, she felt as if she was going to pass out. _No_, she told herself as she willed herself to open the window even an inch. _I can't die. Not yet..  
_  
With every second that passed, Mercedes grew more and more impatient; her weak arms unable to open the window anymore than a few mere inches. The small piece of fresh air was soon clouded with smoke as the black cloud attempted to escape, and before she could open it more, she heard a crash. It almost sounded like the floor was going out beneath her, but after another loud thud, she heard her front door break off of it's hinges.

"Is anyone here?!" She heard a man scream-the sound muffled but not completely quieted from her bedroom door.

Immediately her mouth opened, ready to scream, but before she could the sudden sound of creaking reached her ears. When Mercedes looked behind her, she almost vomited.

A huge hole where her bedroom floor used to be now stood between her a possible salvation.

The man yelled out again, searching for her, and before her fears got the best of her, she screamed. Her voice was loud and strong, and almost as soon as it left her lips, she heard the man reply back. In a matter of seconds he was breaking down her door and staring at the obstacle ahead of him. The hole that had once been her bedroom floor seemed to mock him as flames shot up towards the ceiling, and even though the possibility of her life being saved was one in one hundred-because really, how in the hell was he gonna make that jump and hold her in his arms and jump back across?-a part of her knew deep down and in that second that he could actually do it. He could save her. He seemed to realize this too, because before she could even blink he was doing a running leap towards her and landing shakily on the ledge that was currently keeping her from falling straight into an inferno.

"You okay?" She watched, more than heard the firefighter scream.

Nodding, Mercedes used what little strength she had to stand-the wall and window behind her supporting her. He gave a firm nod back in reply before grabbing her hand. "We can make it," he shouted.

Mercedes' eyes squinted. He couldn't be serious. "Are you fucking crazy?! Hell to the **no**!"

"Do you want to live?" He replied. Brown eyes met green uncertainly.

Everything around her; the flames, the sound of sirens behind them, the feeling of dread that had been rising up within her ever since the first sound of that fight that had started this... it all stopped. The look of pure determination and hope in his eyes had her breath catching, and without even noticing it, she nodded.

"Then trust me."

And she did.

The fire surrounding them seemed to dissipate slightly as they both looked forward. Courage rose up within her, and with an understanding look shared between them and the strong grip of his hand, they jumped.

As soon as her feet hit the somewhat steady floor beneath her, she was ready to make a run for it... That was until she realized the grip that had helped her across was missing. Quickly, she looked behind her, and all of the bravado she had, had a second earlier was gone.

The firefighter was hanging on by the mere few feet that was left of her bedroom rug as his legs dangled over the inferno. The end that he wasn't holding on to was kept still underneath the weight of her dresser but she could tell it was about to give way in a few mere seconds.

"Go!" He screamed as he struggled to hang on. "What're you waiting for?! _**Go**_."

Mercedes shook her head feebly. "Not without you."

"What?"

"I said, not without you!"

Falling to her knees, Mercedes thrust her destroyed manicured hand into his face. "Take it! I'll pull you up!"

The young firefighter began to shake his head at first before he noticed the look she gave him. It was the exact same look he had given her earlier.

Taking one last look at her, he nodded. With all the strength he could muster, the man grabbed onto her smaller hand and attempted to pull himself up. Mercedes, who was now sitting on her butt in hopes she could steady the both of them better, began to yank on his hand as hard as she could. "Come on!" She gritted out as she saw the rug underneath him begin to give way. Turning her head in the direction of her dresser, her brown eyes widened as she watched it begin to fall. She whipped her head back around at him, and her and the firefighter shared the same frightened look for all of second before tripling their efforts. Just as the dresser was about to fall on top of them, the man crawled his way up onto the floor and they both rolled away. Her dresser, which was a gift given to her by her mother as a 'first apartment' type of thing, finally toppled over onto the already weakened floor boards before falling head first into the flames. Not even bothering to give it one last glance, Mercedes and the young firefighter rose to their feet and ran out of her bedroom door.

It took them a few minutes to get down to the ground level, but when they did, Mercedes could've cried out of joy. As soon as her bare feet hit the pavement and she was a good safe distance away from her flame-covered apartment building, the diva fell to her knees with tears streaming down her face.

"Miss."

He was shaking her shoulder but she didn't care. She was alive. She owed him.

Feeling him shake her lightly one more time, Mercedes catapulted herself into the firefighter's unsuspecting arms. With tears trailing down her cheeks and with trembling lips, she kissed his cheek and whispered a 'thank you' into his ear. She felt him tremble slightly underneath her hold, and before she could remove herself from him, the man hugged her back and thanked her as well.

Mercedes leaned back slightly as her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He saw the question in her eyes and gave her a lopsided smile.

"Thank you," he whispered quietly as he looked into her eyes. "You saved my life just as much as I saved yours."

* * *

"Mercedes."

Said woman pursed her lips as her eyes wandered around the empty room. It wasn't like her old apartment, but it was pretty nice... And it meant she could move out of her best friend, Kurt's apartment too.

Ever since the fire that had almost claimed her life happened, Mercedes had been staying with Kurt in his humble abode that he shared with no one other than Rachel Berry. The wannabe Broadway star wasn't really a friend to either of them, but Kurt and her had come to some sort of agreement on their marvelous home. That didn't stop Kurt from complaining about her with every chance that he could get. To put it simply, Mercedes' time in his apartment was a break against the annoyance of living with Rachel alone, and while Mercedes was glad she could do that for her bestie, she had to get out.

Giving one last look to what would soon be her bedroom, Mercedes turned to give a nod to Kurt and the landlord. "I'll take it."

With the papers signed and nothing left to do but move in, Mercedes and Kurt left the apartment building and went straight to the Chinese restaurant down the street. While she was on a slight high from the fact she once again had her old place, she couldn't help but try and shake the feeling in the back of her mind, as well as the memories that haunted her.

The fire had happened almost two months ago, and every night since she couldn't stop the sight of his lop-sided smile from filling every dream. He had saved her life, and she had saved his, but there was something about him. Every ounce of her being felt as if she knew him or at least had seen him somewhere before. If she ever saw him again, she'd ask, but with her luck she never would. That was just how things went.

It also didn't help that Kurt constantly asked her about it either.

"Mercedes!"

"What?" Turning her face towards him, Mercedes narrowed her eyes at him.

Kurt heard the tone of her voice and scoffed, his eyes rolling slightly. "Sorry, but you keep zoning out on me."

"Am not."

"Oh, really?" he questioned. "What did I just say then?"

Narrowing her eyes at him again, Mercedes picked up her egg roll and nibbled on it. "You were... something about Berry... in the street..?"

Kurt held back a chuckle. "Yes, I was most certainly talking about Rachel in the street. Now, pay attention will you? I was trying to tell you something big."

"Please don't tell me it's about Blaine's dick."

Kurt sputtered. "Why on Earth...? You know what? No, it's not. I was actually trying to tell you that I got an internship at but if you're going to be like that-"

"Internship?!" Mercedes' eyes widened as she let her egg roll fall to her plate. With a smile spreading across her face and the excitement rising in her little body, the self-proclaimed diva bounced in her chair as she reached for Kurt's hands. "Are you serious? Kurt, that's _amazing_! I'm so proud of you!"

Doing a little dance in his own chair, Kurt squeezed her hands before trying to calm down. "Finally! I've been trying to get that kind of reaction out of you for the past five minutes but you kept spacing!"

Mercedes rolled her eyes cutely in reply. "I'm sorry, but ah! I'm so excited for you. You'll do perfectly, I know it."

"Thanks," he said before digging into his own egg roll. "So... did you ever find out his name?"

"Who's name?"

Kurt swallowed the end of the egg roll he had been munching on before continuing. "You know... the firefighter's."

"Kurt, what did I tell you?"

"I know, I know, but you've been spacey ever since the fire and I even heard you call out for the guy in your sleep the other night."

"How did you even know I was dreaming about him?" Mercedes asked in shock as she sat back in her seat.

Kurt shrugged unabashedly. "You were saying how you wished he was June in the firefighters' sexy calendar."

"I said all of that in my sleep?!"

"Okay, so you may have not said all of that in those exact words but that's basically the gist of it."

Groaning, Mercedes let her head fall back as she closed her eyes—embarrassment sneaking in. That specific dream was memorable and had been in her mind ever since she had it, so it wasn't really a surprise to her that it was the one he would mention. The fact she was talking in her sleep though was the problem. How in the hell could she stop that?

"So, back to what I was saying about Vogue…"

* * *

The burning light of day time seared his eyes behind his eye lids as he vainly tried to go back to sleep.

Yesterday night seemed to never end. Between taking care of his siblings, a late night fire rescue on the other side of town, and having to endure the craziness that was his best friend, Puck, who just decided to pop by for a beer, Sam didn't think he'd ever get to sleep. Now that he was—or had been able to sleep, he didn't want to give it up. He didn't have work until five that afternoon, so who on Earth was testing the wrath that was him?

"Sammy…" Stacey.

Groaning, Sam turned over onto his stomach in an attempt to escape the bright light. "Stacey, baby, I love you, I do, but please close the curtains. I have black ones for a reason."

"But I'm hungry."

At that, his green eyes opened groggily before he turned his head to regard his sister warily. If Stacey was up then that meant Stevie was too, and it was a Saturday… So where was their brother? Sam grunted tiredly. Guess he would have to get some sleep another time.

He turned back over onto his back and sat up. Immediately, he felt Stacey jump onto the bed and crawl her way towards him. Her little fingers grasped at his arm, and before he could open his eyes fully, she was wrapping situating her seven year old self into his lap.

"When do you leave today?" She asked quietly, her fingers idly playing at the fringe of her night shirt.

Sam wrapped his arms around her and set his head atop hers. "Five. It's not for another…" His eyes squinted as he tried to read the clock across from him. "…Six hours."

Stacey nodded her own reply before ducking her head and trying to look up at him. Sam looked right back at her, and after a moment, she grinned. "Your hair looks funny."

Chuckling, Sam ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah… Now where's Stevie?"

His little sister immediately quieted at that. Noticing the silence, Sam leaned back to look at her—one of his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Stacey…"

"I told him not to do it…" Fuck.

Sam scooped Stacey into his arms and slid off of the bed. His little sister squealed at the sudden movement, but held onto him tightly. By the time he got into the kitchen of their small house, he soon realized what Stacey had been talking about.

The microwave was obviously busted and something sticky and reminiscent of 'the Blob' was sitting on top of the stove.

Anger burned underneath his chest as Sam took in the sight of the microwave he would now have to replace. His brother was practically dead meat at this point.

Letting Stacey fall from his arms and safely onto her feet on the floor, Sam didn't take his eyes off of the busted piece of kitchen equipment as his eyes narrowed. Before Stacey could even breathe, Sam was yelling out Stevie's name, and the automatic crash that followed gave Sam his little brother's hiding place.

The twenty year old man that Sam was seemed to change at that point to someone older, someone who was experienced with matters such as this. It came with the territory of becoming your siblings' parent, he guessed.

Without another word, Sam crossed his arms and waited for Stevie to appear before him. The little punk knew not to mess with him, especially if Sam was freshly woken up. If Stevie wanted to live, he'd come into the kitchen right at that second, and just like clockwork, he did.

His little brother's head was down and his arms were behind his back. The little twerp was trying hard this time.

"Stevie;" Sam's voice was even and low and Stevie's resulting shiver made Sam smirk evilly. "Would you like to confess to your crimes or do I have to make you?"

Stevie's hazel eyes snapped up to him as his mouth opened and closed like a fish. After a few seconds of the bewildered look on his face, Stevie pointed at Stacey. "She wanted food! I was just trying—"

"What did I tell you?"

The seven year old's mouth closed and he looked at the floor dejectedly. He knew.

"Stevie…"

"Never mess around in the kitchen without you… But I was just trying—"

"Stop," Sam interrupted as he raised his hand against the defiance in Stevie's eyes. "I told you to never touch the kitchen appliances except for the fridge if I'm not around and this," Sam waved at the broken microwave. "This is the reason why. I have to replace that now. Stevie, you do realize we barely have any money, right? I don't have the funds to replace that right now."

Stevie deflated at his brother's words.

He was right. Sam couldn't afford to replace the microwave, or anything for that matter, right now. Living in South Bronx was hard, and even with two jobs, Sam could barely scrape by.

At the age of fifteen, Sam's mother died in a car crash. Not too long after that, his father followed her with a destroyed liver that was a result of his alcoholism. Sam and his siblings had moved into his Uncle's place, but the resulting abuse had Sam taking matters into his own hands. As soon as he was eighteen, the three of them moved out and into the cheapest apartment they could find. Sam's dropping out of high school at sixteen had helps somewhat, because as soon as he was free, he took any and every job he could. He was once even a stripper at eighteen whenever they first moved out. The money was good, but the resulting depression and feeling of worthlessness made him stop. Now that he was staring at the broken microwave, Sam wondered if he'd be willing to go back to that.

Turning his attention away from the broken appliance and back to his brother, a wave of guilt hit him when he took in the look of despair on Stevie's face. He knew what he did and Sam knew he was sorry. Sam also knew that if he could, Stevie would start working to pay for it, but he was several years too young. Both him and Stacey were.

It was all on Sam.

He sighed heavily as he moved forwards and kneeled before his baby brother. Stevie didn't look up, but Sam forced him to look up at him anyways with a gentle nudge of his hand. Stacey was looking at them curiously from behind Sam, but she wasn't his main concern right now, although he did remember she was hungry.

Stevie needed to understand.

As soon as the younger boy locked his gaze onto Sam's, Sam grabbed his shoulder firmly and gave a small squeeze. "I know that you were trying to help your sister," he whispered. "Thank you for that. I know you were trying to help her so that you didn't have to wake me up, but dude... Stevie... what if you had gotten hurt when that thing exploded? You could've been killed. Just... promise me next time you'll wake me up. Please? I promise I won't yell at you or anything like that. I just need to know that you guys are safe and I'll be fine. Okay?"

Stevie nodded sadly-his hazel eyes glistening with tears before he wiped them away.

Standing, Sam turned his head to look at Stacey who was quickly making her way towards her twin in an attempt to make him feel better. The moment her arms wrapped around Stevie's, the boy's eyes cleared, and Sam felt a small smile tugging on the edge of his lips.

"So," Sam said happily with a clap of his hands. "Who wants pancakes?"

A chorus of 'me's' was soon heard in their tiny apartment, and with one last unsure look to the broken microwave, Sam got to work on the promised pancakes.

* * *

Her nerves were getting the best of her. It had been a day since she had moved into her new apartment and everything was still in boxes, but the promise of a good show tonight hung in the air.

Mercedes had another gig at TERRAIN tonight, one that was to make up for her cancelled show two months prior.

At the knowledge that she had almost died in the fire, the manager of TERRAIN gave her an entire show's pay in hopes of helping her get back on her feet. The five hundred dollars wasn't a lot, but to Mercedes, she couldn't help but smile and be happy that she got to work for such great people. The unsure knot in her gut though had her hesitating.

The last time she had gotten ready for a show, a fire had broke out and it had almost killed her. While the odds of it happening again were slim to none, Mercedes couldn't help but feel nervous.

Putting a small dab of lip gloss onto her bottom lip, she quickly smacked her lips quietly and took a look at herself in the mirror. Perfect. She even looked better than she did the last time.

Mercedes took in a shaky breath before smiling at herself. She rose without a word, grabbed her purse from her bed, and turned off the light before exiting her room, locking her front door, and heading straight for TERRAIN.

The walk there was shorter this go around thanks to her new apartment, but the route was practically the same. She passed by apartments, businesses, and even got to see the stray dog that had taken a liking to her over the past two years she had been living in New York. By the time she had gotten there, her nerves were practically gone. She was going to kill it tonight, she just knew it.

She turned down the street that TERRAIN was on, and as soon as she saw him, she stopped. Quickly hiding behind a tree, Mercedes checked him out in the moonlight. It may have been eleven at night, or maybe it was just because she didn't get a good enough look at him when he saved her life, but damn did he look fine.

The black Jack Daniel's t-shirt that he wore was a size too small and it clung to him like a second skin. A thin leather jacket was held within his strong hands, and the dark wash jeans framed his cute little ass perfectly. His red Chucks were just the icing on the 'Hot Firefighter' Cake.

Taking another second to stare at him, Mercedes soon realized how creepy she must've looked. She glanced around her and yep, people were given her strange looks. Great

Mercedes moved out from behind the tree and ducked her head, trying to walk as fast as she could towards the entrance to the club. By the time she got there, the man was already inside and gone, and the butterflies in her stomach had her groaning.

He was going to hear her sing. Would he even remember her? Either way, she knew for a fact she'd be searching for his green eyes the entire night.

He was going to haunt her.

* * *

"I feel like shit, man."

Knowing exactly what he was talking about, Puck gave Sam the best side-eye he could manage with the distraction of several lovely ladies around him. He saw the look of guilt written all over his friend's face, and the slightly older man sighed. Grabbing onto his friend's shoulder, Puck squeezed. "They'll be fine, all right? They have their baby sitter and you already worked your shift at the fire department. They can't just call you out if there's a fire when you're off... Can they?"

Sam barely nodded in his reply as he shrugged Puck's hand off. "Yeah, they can. And it doesn't make me feel better that they have a baby sitter. I don't feel like I should be partying when I have shit to do. I need money, dude, and partying isn't going to help."

"It sure as hell will!" Puck retorted back as they moved through the crowds of TERRAIN and towards the front bar. The lights around them were almost hypnotizing, and the girls were even better. Catching sight of a cute girl to his right, Puck sent a wink her way before resting his arms on the bar. Looking at Sam, he raised an eyebrow. "You need to de-stress, dude, and partying and getting laid is gonna do just that."

Sam scoffed at the latter part of Puck's statement as he rested an elbow against the bar. "How in the hell am I gonna get laid when I have two small kids at home?"

"How long has it been anyways?"

"I don't know," Sam muttered quietly as he shrugged. "Six months?"

A sound of shock erupted from Puck's mouth before he coughed loudly. The older man ran a hand through his mohawk as he watched Sam curiously. "Are you kidding me? How are you standing?"

"Not everyone needs ass as much as you, Puck."

"But you're a guy! I don't understand how you haven't died yet! That's a long ass time without it."

"Like I said... I've been busy," Sam trailed off.

Truthfully, he hadn't gotten any in eight months, but he wasn't going to tell Puck that. The last time he got laid was back when he was with Brittany, and that was it. He had been working too much. At least, that's what he told himself. He had definitely gotten offers since eight months ago, but Sam always came up with some kind of excuse. He needed money, and that was it.

Just as Puck was about to say something else, the lights up at the stage flashed brightly, and for a moment, Sam couldn't see. The lights soon faded away as a lone figure moved up towards the mic he just now noticed. It was a guy. As soon as he put his hand onto the mic, a light from above shone down on him, and Sam recognized him as the night manager of the club. What was his name...? Eric? It didn't matter anyways, because as soon as he introduced himself to the place, Sam didn't care.

It was her.

The woman that appeared behind Eric-which he realized wasn't his real name but Sam didn't give a fuck at that moment-was the same woman he hadn't been able to stop thinking about. Sam didn't tell a soul about his nightly thoughts about her, but she had saved his life, and he would never forget her.

She stood behind Eric with a cute, tiny smile on her face with her hands in front of her. Her hair was in soft curls and she had some swept over the big, beautiful brown eyes that he had been seeing in his dreams. A black, glittery bustier-type shirt fit her like a glove with a black jacket over it, and her skinny jeans showed him the curve of her ass. Black, stiletto booties were on her feet, and if Sam wasn't leaning against the bar, he knew he'd probably fall to the ground.

She was breathtaking. And she was looking right at him.

Brown met green, and Sam felt something inside of him click into place. Just as soon as he had her gaze, she looked away, and his own smile matched hers.

She remembered him.

Feeling someone shaking his shoulder, Sam turned his head in the direction of Puck but didn't dare to tear his eyes away from her. "What?"

Instead of answering, Puck shoved a beer into his hands. At the feeling of the cold glass touching his skin, Sam finally looked away from her and at his friend who was smirking. Sam narrowed his eyes. "...What?"

"It's her, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"The girl that you saved. That's her."

His eyes widened. "How do you..."

Puck shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Remember when I stayed over the other night? Well I went snooping and found that drawing you did of her. It doesn't look exactly like her but the eyes are the same."

"You!" Sam's eyebrow's knitted together in fury as he pointed his finger at him with the hand that was holding his beer. "You were looking through my stuff?"

"It's no big deal, dude. I wasn't going to steal your bag of weed or anything."

Sighing through his nose, he pinched the bridge of his nose before glaring at his mohawked friend. "That's not the point. You went looking through my stuff."

"Hey now, at least I'm not like Santana. Now she would've completely trashed your entire place and probably would've gone looking for the girl you drew. You know she fuckin' would."

Sam's mouth opened so he could retort back, but before he could, music began to seep out of the speakers and onto the floor. His attention snapped back to the stage where the girl was now holding the mic, and just like before, their eyes met.

"Hi," she giggled quietly into the mic. Whoops and hollers filled the club in reply and Sam felt his ears burn. "I just want to thank you guys for letting me come back. I'm honestly lucky to even be here, and this next song is dedicated to the guy who saved my life two months ago."

She looked down towards her feet shyly, a smile growing on her lips as she squeezed the mic in her hand. Looking up and into the crowd, her shoulders straightened and Sam felt the air in the room raise in temperature.

"Without him," she continued. "I wouldn't be here. He's a firefighter and he was just doing his job... but he deserves a thank you in more than just me having saved his life as well. This is to you, Mister Fireman."

A slow, piano melody began, and with each passing note, Sam moved towards the stage. The faint sound of a drum and bass joined in, and by the time the girl opened her mouth, Sam was entranced.

"Wake up, look me in the eyes again," She sang-her voice soft and sweet and a perfect companion to the mellow mood of the song. "I need to feel your hand upon my face, words can relay nice, they can cut you open.."

Sam had never heard this song before, but he knew it was now his favorite. The lyrics weren't the customary 'thank you' type of song, but something felt familiar. Her face maybe, and in more than just the 'I saved your life two months ago' type of way. Her voice sounded like something he had heard in a dream, and as she sang the words, "You've gotten into my bloodstream, I could feel you floating in me," Sam saw flashes of a past he had tried to forget.

Who was she?

The song continued on, and the more he heard, the more curious he became; not because the song had a hint of yearning in it, but because she seemed to have the same feeling as him.

People all around them were staring at her just like he was, and no one else really knew what was going on except for them and Puck, but when the last words left her lips, Sam was turning and walking back to the bar. He could feel her eyes on him, and his chest ached.

"Hey," Puck muttered whenever he was close enough. "Why don't you go back up there and say hi? What're you doing back here?"

"I can't..."

Puck's eyes narrowed in confusion. "You can't what? Make a move? Hell, I'll make one for you, she's hot."

Sam's arm caught hold of Puck's shoulder, and the slight anger in his eyes had Puck pausing. What was with this girl and why was she affecting him like this? Simply a mention of Puck going after her had jealousy rising through him, but at the same time, Sam didn't even know her name.

Was he sick?

Seeing the mild shock in his best friend's eyes, Sam's hand fell away to his side. Behind him, Mystery Girl sang on, but he could hear a tint of sadness in her voice as if everything in him was tuned into her.

Giving her one last glance up on the stage, their eyes met once more before Sam turned and walked towards the entrance of the club.

Whatever it was that was racking through him, be it memories or feelings... he needed it to stop. He couldn't afford another relationship. Not right now. He had his siblings to protect and care for. Nothing else mattered but them.

* * *

He hated it. Well... he didn't _hate_ it, but whatever it was that she was feeling, he felt it too, only he wasn't willing to explore it. That much was clear as she watched him head out of the club.

Eyes fluttering closed for a second, Mercedes bit her bottom lip as she let the music overtake her and help her lose herself into her set. By the time she was aware of her surroundings again, a thunderous wave of applause was heard throughout the entire club, and Mercedes felt a sad smile blooming on her face. She quickly said good night and left the stage. The crowd cheered for her, and before too long, the club went on as normal. Music provided by the DJ played through the speakers, and Mercedes was on her way to her dressing room.

Why the cute fireman turning away from her as she sang hurt was beyond her-maybe she had just been imagining him too much? Maybe she over thought all of it? His smile whenever she hugged him once they were out of the fire, the look of awe he sported as she sang to him, the sparks that flew between them... Shaking her head as she closed the door to her dressing room, Mercedes sat down on the couch and sighed.

She was an idiot. There was nothing else to explain it.

Looking back on it, it made her embarrassed.

Three months had passed since the last time she had seen him. Mercedes did gigs at TERRAIN, and even became their headlining act. She performed at least three times a week. While Mercedes loved performing for them, she was glad that her classes at NYU had started again. The fall semester had come, and now she was ready to get down to business.

Mercedes was in her third year at NYU, majoring in Psychology and minoring in Economics and Mathematics. Her parents had always told her to have a back-up plan, and she had three. Not only was she making money off of her gigs and had a steady job there, she also was working towards a possible job as a child and adolescent psychiatrist. If even the both of those fell through, then she would go with plan C: Accountant.

During her senior year of high school in New Orleans, Louisiana, she had spent an entire week soul searching and researching every possible avenue she could take in college, and once the week had ended, her three plans was what she came up with. While singing and performing was her love, she knew the possibilities of a girl like her making it. As her father always said, "Society has one eye open and the other closed. 'They' only see one way, baby girl, and it's difficult to make them see another. That doesn't mean you give up though. Just be smart." And smart she was.

Tapping her pen on her empty notebook, Mercedes stuck her lip out in boredom.

Her teacher was five minutes late and had been late nearly every single class. School had only started a week ago, but Mr. Schuester was already pushing it. She had straight A's to get, and he wasn't helping.

Mercedes turned her head towards the window to her right and looked out into the New York City streets in an effort to make the time pass by quicker as she waited. They were only on the second floor, but the people still seemed so tiny to her. Taking in a deep breath, she let it out in a huff. Just as she was about to turn her head towards the opening classroom door, her eyes caught sight of blond hair and thick lips, and Mercedes was up and out of her chair before she even noticed. She gathered her things quickly, making everyone in the classroom look at her—including Mr. Schuester who had just arrived.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Jones?" He asked as he set down his messenger bag. "I know I'm late, but that is no excuse to leave."

Giving him a nervous smile, Mercedes inched her way towards the door. "I'm sorry, Mr. Schue… I, uh… My sister just called and said she's having her baby and I—I need to be with her. Sorry." With that, she ran out of the room. Barely missing a corner, she let out a quiet 'fuck' as her shoulder throbbed in mild pain. That was going to bruise in the morning.

A few steps and another door were the only things in front of her and the street, and when she finally got there, she fought to breathe. Her eyes went left and right and she growled in frustration when she came up with nothing. "Come on," she grunted quietly.

Giving one last glance down the street to her right, her eyes soon widened as she caught sight of him again. Not giving him a chance to get away, Mercedes sprinted towards him—her purse and book bag flailing behind her. It took her an entire block to reach him, and when she did she caught hold of his orange vest. Wait… he was a construction worker?

At the feeling of someone tugging on his vest, the man turned around, and once his eyes took her in, he gasped. "You—"

Mercedes hung her head as she breathed, her hand still gripping his vest tightly to make sure he didn't get away. He didn't try, and for that Mercedes was thankful. "Finally…" She said breathlessly. Raising her head, a shiver went down her spine as their eyes met, and just like before, something steadied within her. "I have… been looking for you... _everywhere_."

His eyes widened. "Wha… why?"

Her brown eyes narrowed accusingly as she spoke. "You walked away when I sang. I saw you enter TERRAIN, I sang to you as a thank you, and you walked away."

"Well what did you expect me to do?" He asked as he tried to tug his vest out of her grasp. "Your song wasn't exactly a thank you song, you know."

For a second, everything stopped for her. The people, the sun above them, the birds… it all stopped as she slowly stood to her full height. Taking in a shaky breath, Mercedes gripped his vest. "So you… you don't feel it?"

"Feel what?"

She looked down at the ground and stared hard. Her hand fell away from his person, and it took everything in her to not cry. She was so stupid.

A couple of heart beats passed, and he was still there looking at her. Chancing a glance at him, she saw the tips of his ears a bright red color. She narrowed her gaze slightly, and then took in the emotion in his eyes.

"You're lying."

* * *

Sam's back stiffened. How the fuck did she know? Was she psychic?

Moving back onto his right foot and a couple of inches away from her, he crossed his arms. "Look… I'm glad I saved your life. You saved mine. We're even. Now… I don't know who you are—"

"Mercedes."

Sam's left eyebrow rose. Where had he heard that name before? "…Well… Mercedes… I don't mean to be rude, but I'm sorry. I don't 'feel' what you're 'feeling'. Now I have work to get back to. Have a nice day." Turning around, he began walking back towards the work site he had been working on since nine that morning.

"You're a construction worker too?" He could feel a headache coming on.

Whipping his head around, he saw her following him. "Why are you following me?"

"You never gave me your name. I gave you mine and it's only right I get yours."

Slowing to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, Sam reluctantly turned around to face her. After gauging her determination, he soon sighed and closed his eyes for a second, willing away the oncoming headache. She was cute, but fuck, she was annoying. "The name's Sam."

He opened his eyes, and the first sight that greeted him was her smiling face. Sunlight shone overhead, and for a second, he was sure she was glowing. Even if they never met again, he knew that this one moment—this one smile was going to be in his memory forever.

Extending her hand, Mercedes waited until he took it cautiously. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam." Her voice was smooth as silk, and he didn't want her to stop talking. Whatever it was he—_they_ were feeling he knew it could soon lead to an addiction. The feel of her small hand in his had warmth sprouting from his palm, his heart beat gradually increased, and Sam knew he was a goner.

"It's… It's, uh, nice to meet you too, Mercedes."

* * *

**A/N: **So what'd you think? Review. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Clarity, Chapter 2

**Pairing: **Sam/Mercedes

**Rating: **Mature

**Notes: **Hello again. This is the second in the small story. I know it took a while but I hope the length makes up for it.

**Summary:** Something unexplainable happens when Sam and Mercedes meet. Is it love? Is it fate? Maybe it's a bit of both, but to them, _nothing _is worth this kind of pain.

* * *

Everything was uncomfortable. Looking at her now as she sat in front of him, Sam couldn't help but fidget.

After introducing each other, they had somehow ended up at a nearby coffee shop. Sam didn't exactly remember how that happened, especially since he was still adamant about forgetting about her and moving on, but his legs had seemed to move on their own accord. The walk had been quiet, and from the moment they sat down, it had been quiet still. Mercedes occasionally took a sip of her coffee before stealing shy glances at him, but Sam had simply sat down and said nothing. Had he had the money, he might've gotten a coffee too and they could've been talking, but the awkward air he had created permeated around them. Everyone else in the coffee shop had to see it too, it was so obvious.

Maybe he could still ease out of the chair and head back home? Wait… wasn't he supposed to be at work right now? _Shit. _

Chancing a look at her from underneath his lashes, he saw her staring at him, and they both turned away with blushes reddening their cheeks. It was like middle school all over again.

"So…" Sam attempted as he began to tear at the edges of a sugar packet. "You sing."

Mercedes' eyes widened slightly at the sound of his voice—surprised that one of them was actually talking. When she seemed to get over the initial shock, she nodded and set her coffee cup down. "I've been singing at TERRAIN for a couple of months now. I moved to New York at eighteen to attend NYU, and am…" Mercedes' voice trailed off for a second as she caught her mistake. "…_Had_ been living in that apartment you, um, saved me in."

"Yeah… Sorry about that."

She watched him curiously. "Why are you sorry? You didn't start the fire."

Sam shrugged. "Whenever I'm working for the fire department, I just always kind of feel sorry for the people the fire affects. You had nothing to do with it and yet you lost your home and a lot of your stuff. Not everyone can pay for new things. Had it been me…" Sam shook his head and looked at the ground.

It was obvious he didn't want to continue with that statement, but she didn't seem to care.

"Had it been you what?"

Sam's eyes stayed glued to the floor. He was quiet for a second before finally speaking. "My siblings and I probably would've been homeless, and not in the 'only temporary homeless until we can get a new place' type of homeless either."

"Oh." Brown eyes looked down towards her hands which were in her lap as she took in that little bit of info. He was poor.

Biting her lower lip nervously as she fought to find something to say, Mercedes fiddled with the bottom of her shirt. Whatever it was that they felt and whoever it was that she reminded him of, she couldn't help but be curious. The only way to find out the truth as to who he was, was to talk, but there was no guarantee Sam would do such a thing. He was already secretive and quiet, and there was nothing coming to mind that would make him give her the answers she so desperately craved. The fact he was still sitting there even though she knew he had work must've meant something. Her eyelashes fluttered as Mercedes dared to glance at him again.

He was staring hard at the table with his jaw tight. Maybe he was only here to appease her.

Breathing a sigh, she waved towards the door. "You can go. It's obvious you're not really willing to talk to me." Sam's eyes whipped up towards her, opened wide in shock. Mercedes pursed her lips. "You heard me. Look, thank you for saving my life. I know it was your job, but seriously, thank you. I just wanted to get to know you better but obviously this isn't going to go anywhere, so thank you for you time. You can go back to work now."

Mercedes stood and grabbed her stuff. Sam just saw there, in a surprised daze, but by the time her right hand reached the door handle, he was grabbing her left. He held it gently, and everything in Mercedes grew warm. Not turning to look at him, she just listened.

"I'm..." he started. She couldn't see his face, but she had a feeling he swallowed down the words threatening to come out. After a second, he squeezed her hand, but instead of saying another word, he moved her out of the way from the oncoming customers trying to get in. She moved along with him, but still didn't speak. She could see him fidget underneath the silence. His hand never let go of hers.

"I'm sorry," Sam finally whispered. "I'm not normally like this I just..." Lifting his hand that wasn't holding hers, he touched her jaw in a caress and her eyes met his. "Life isn't easy for me. I... I have my siblings to take care of and I know you just said that you wanted to get to know me, but I never really have the time for anything other than them and the occasional trip with Puck. I work, I go home, I feed them, and I go to sleep. That's it. Whatever this is," he motioned in between them and Mercedes immediately got what he meant. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I don't know why I feel like I know you and I don't know what this... this... spark is, but I can't."

They shared a gaze that spoke more than his words. There was longing, and his eyes shined brightly with it.

Averting her gaze, Mercedes gripped his hand. "Sam, that doesn't mean you can't still make a new friend." Her eyes drifted to his. They could never stay away from them for too long.

Whatever this familiarity was between them, it was strong.

* * *

"When did your mom send this again?"

Taking in a deep breath, Mercedes plopped down onto her couch beside Kurt who had come over less than an hour ago. As soon as he had entered her apartment, he had gone on and on about Rachel's new hobby of trying her hand at accents. A new Broadway show had started auditioning for leads, and like the woman she was, Rachel was putting everything she had into it. The lead female had a Ukrainian accent, and Kurt was tired of hearing Rachel's attempts. He was slowly going insane… or so he said. By the time he was done ranting though, he had focused on something more interesting, and like usual, her life was his main entertainment.

Mercedes recalled the conversation she had, had with Kurt the night before and remembered mentioning a box she had found in her closet while half asleep, but now that they were sitting on the couch with it between them, Mercedes wished she hadn't told him a single thing. Inside were several small moments from her teenage years; a diary here, a picture there, and a small flower that had been given to her by her best friend back when she was twelve. It was all there, and Kurt was delving right into it.

Mercedes sighed quietly. "She sent it two weeks into my staying with you. She said she had been cleaning out my room and found it all in my closet. Her exact words were 'you don't live here anymore and these are your things. It's about damn time you took them up out of my house'."

Kurt let out a breath as his eyes widened. "Wow. Normally parents want to keep things to remember us by."

"Yeah," she chuckled. "My mom loves me, but now that it's just her and Daddy in the house, she is doing all the redecorating she has wanted to do ever since she first bought it. She never could before 'cause Sean and I were there, but now she wants all of our stuff out so she can have a blank canvas."

Nodding, Kurt reached into the box and pulled out a picture of a fifteen year old Mercedes with her old dog, Lilah. He looked over the photo for a second longer before turning his attention towards Mercedes who was pulling out an old diary. "What's that?" She shrugged. Opening it, her eyes soon widened. Seeing her reaction, Kurt leaned over the box to get a better look. "What?" He asked.

"This is a journal of all the old songs I wrote back when I was, like… seventeen! I had totally forgotten about these!"

"Are any of them good?"

Mercedes laughed. "Maybe one or two, but most of them were just about stupid stuff—teenage angst and all that."

Kurt nodded, but before he could say another word, his phone chimed. Taking it out of his pocket and opening the message, a small, shy smile spread across his lips.

She had noticed the newfound happiness in her best friend's demeanor for weeks now, but there was always a sad tint to it, like something was missing. Kurt hadn't said a word about it, and Mercedes figured he would tell her when he was ready. With the way Kurt was fidgeting though, she expected today might be that day. Before she could be proven right though, he changed the subject.

"So how's Sam?"

Crap. "He's fine, I guess. I don't know."

"You haven't talked to him?"

Mercedes refused to look into Kurt's eyes as she shrugged. Truthfully, she hadn't talked to him since their time in the coffee shop over a week ago. Before they had said goodbye, Mercedes had been able to get his number and he got hers, but nothing more had come of it. Sam just didn't seem interested.

"Not interested, hm?"

Rolling her eyes, she sent him a glare. "What about you?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What about me?"

"I was gonna wait until you just told me yourself, but if you're gonna ask about Sam, then I'll ask about _your_ guy."

Taken aback by her own tone as soon as it left her lips, Mercedes sighed. She quickly muttered a 'sorry', and grew quiet—her thoughts taking over.

Truthfully, Mercedes was anxious. Two nights ago she had, had a dream about a boy. He was twelve and she was thirteen, and the only thing she could remember was his smile. That one specific dream had been haunting her for three days now and every single time it was the same. No matter how badly she thought it might be a certain someone, she would always shake it off and ignore it.

Brown eyes shyly glanced in her best friend's direction. He looked guilty too.

In an effort to get the awkwardness out of the air, Mercedes reached into the box and pulled out another diary. It looked normal. A few pages had her retelling of a night out with her family, and some had random doodles. When she reached the last quarter of the book though, a tiny envelope fell out.

"What's that?" She heard Kurt ask quietly.

Shrugging, she picked it up from where it fell onto her lap and opened the flap. Before she could actually look inside though, her own phone chimed. Mercedes bit her bottom lip as she recognized the ringtone.

It was Sam.

Mercedes sent a cautious glare at Kurt. He looked back at her with confusion written all over his face before it lit up.

"Oh my God! Is that him?"

Mercedes nodded. Kurt immediately began bouncing up and down and took the envelope from her, poking her in the stomach to check her phone as he did so.

* * *

His day sucked. He had been at the fire house for over three hours now and nothing was going on.

As soon as he had entered the place, Sam clocked and immediately went to the small work out area they had set up. He had been too preoccupied with his siblings lately to work out and his construction job had gained two more contracts, leaving Sam with three separate houses on Long Island to help oversee.

Over his time at both the firehouse and the Wilson Brothers Construction, Sam had made quite a name for himself. He wasn't making a lot of money, but rumors were that he could be promoted in both. Talks of him being a future fire lieutenant was starting to happen, and David at Wilson's had already given him the ability to make sure everything went according to schedule at every construction site Sam went to. Now if only he could get raise. That'd make everything a lot easier.

Staring at the ceiling as he laid down on the couch, Sam let out a huff and closed his eyes. If the day continued on like this, he'd be tempted to go home and sleep. Knowing that it would take away from his weekly paycheck kept him from doing so though.

_You could text her._

Sam groaned. Ever since he had gotten Mercedes' number, he had, had the urge to text her. If he was being truthful, he had wanted to as soon as they had left the coffee house, but he couldn't. He couldn't be distracted. He had two siblings to take care of and he had to devote everything he was to them. They needed a parent, and since theirs were dead, he had to become one.

…But that didn't mean he couldn't have a friend to help him. Fuck. He already had Puck and Puck was enough. He didn't need her.

Or did he?

Groaning louder this time, Sam turned over onto his stomach and ignored the looks being sent his way from his coworkers, Jonathan and Aiden nearby. They didn't know a thing about his life and they wouldn't start now.

Without even opening his eyes, he fished for his Wal-Mart cell phone out of his pocket. Forty dollars a month he spent on unlimited everything and it was about time he used it. He found her name easily as soon as he opened his eyes, and before he even knew what he was writing he was sending her a text.

Staring at his cell phone, he thought, _And now we wait_.

* * *

"What's up?"

Kurt squealed. Giving him a small smile, Mercedes took her cell phone in both hands and sent him a text back. It was merely a formality, nothing more than a, 'Nothing much, what's up with you?' But to Mercedes, it felt like a new beginning.

"What'd he say?"

Mercedes shrugged. "He hasn't text back ye—Wait. He said 'It's boring at the firehouse. We're just staring at each other waiting for something to happen.'"

"And?"

Mercedes glanced in Kurt's direction. "That's it."

Unamused, Kurt resisted the urge to take the phone from her and text him himself. "Well text him back something! If he's not gonna do much, then you have to be the one to move!"

"…What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, I'm just looking at a box with my friend that basically holds most of my teenage years in picture and written form?" Kurt nodded eagerly in reply and earned a pout in return.

Looking at her phone, Mercedes took in a shaky breath and began typing a message.

_That doesn't sound fun. I'm not much better. I'm in my apartment with my best friend just doing nothing but looking through a box of old memories that my mom sent me._

Mercedes felt a pair of eyes on her. Turning her head, she caught Kurt's glare. "What?"

"Oh, I see how it is. 'Not much better', huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm just making conversation, Kurt—just like you told me to. You know I love hanging out with you."

Kurt made a sound in his throat before turning his attention away from her and towards the little envelope he had crumbled in his hand. She rolled her eyes with a small smile on her face, knowing she'd have to make it up to him by getting him his favorite cake from the bakery downtown. He'd fight it at first, but she knew he'd get him back.

Seeing his interest was off of her, Mercedes looked back at her phone which soon vibrated in her hand.

**Oh. Cool. What's her name?**

_His name is Kurt. We've been friends ever since I moved to New York. I lived with him right after the fire._

**You didn't grow up here?**

_No-pe. I was born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and grew up in New Orleans. I didn't move here until I came to college._

**Oh. Cool.**

Mercedes frowned. That was it? Really? Pursing her lips, she sat back against her couch and her eyebrow rose. Was she always going to have to be the main person in the conversation? If he was gonna be like this, then why text her in the first place?

Setting her mouth in a determined line, she texted him back.

_What about you?_

**What about me?**

_Where did you grow up? Were you born here?_

A few seconds passed, and Mercedes could feel the hesitance even though she knew he was miles away. It wasn't until she was about to turn to her quiet best friend that he texted back.

**I was born in Tennessee but moved here when I was eight. My siblings were just babies. That was back when my parents had money.**

_If you don't mind me asking… what happened?_

Another few seconds passed, and once a full two minutes was gone, Mercedes let out a sigh. She turned to Kurt, ready to see if he'd be willing to get that cake now instead of letter, but the look of awe on his face had her eyebrows furrowing.

"Kurt?"

He didn't say a word. He simply tore his eyes away from the papers in his hands and stared at her.

Feeling butterflies in her stomach, she resisted the urge to feel his forehead. Was he okay? "What is it?"

"This… _these_…"

"What?!"

"Sam."

"What about him?"

Kurt lifted the papers in his hands and practically thrusted them into her face. She leaned back in surprise, but as soon as her eyes caught a few words, Mercedes gasped.

* * *

He hadn't stopped staring at his phone for at least a good five minutes. The words stared back, just as intensely, and had he actually been thinking, he would've been surprised that his phone's screen didn't time out.

She wanted to know. What was he supposed to tell her? My parents both lost their great jobs, my mom died in a car crash, my dad died of alcoholism and a broken heart, my uncle abused my siblings and I, and I almost went to jail 'cause I almost killed him after he hit Stacey and we've been barely living in a tiny apartment since I was eighteen? Oh, and not to mention I didn't graduate high school and I've been thinking about getting my GED? Sam almost laughed at how sad his life seemed. Had it been a TV show, he was sure it would've been a soap opera or some shit.

His green eyes flickered away from his cell phone as soon as the screen timed out and towards the clock.

He had another three hours here, and as soon as he got home he'd be making dinner for both him and his siblings. They had wanted Planet Wings, but they didn't have the money for that. Spaghetti was his next best option and—why was he thinking about that? Was he that hell bent on pushing everyone away?

"If you don't blink soon, I think your eyeballs are gonna fall out of the sockets."

Sam whipped his head around towards Andrew, the current Captain of the fire house. He was standing behind the couch and sent Sam an amusing look as he watched him.

If Sam ever had to admit it, he'd say that Andrew was the closest thing he had to a father ever since his own died. No matter what it was that Sam or his siblings needed, Andrew was there. He was the reason Sam got a job at the fire house in the first place without a diploma or anything to his name. He owed Andrew a lot.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Sam's glanced towards the TV Jonathan and Aiden were currently watching as if their lives depended on it. Some game was on, and had Sam actually cared, he probably would've been right there with them. "Very funny, Andrew."

"Well you were staring at that thing as if your life depended on it and then immediately began staring at the clock. Do you want to leave that badly? Are the kids okay?"

Sam nodded quietly. Hearing Andrew sigh in reply, he sat up and let Andrew take a seat beside him. The older man did so and kept his distance, knowing he needed to tread lightly if he wanted to get anything out of him.

The silence between them was only interrupted by Jonathan and Aiden screaming at the TV over something neither of them cared for. Sam was biting his bottom lip so hard he thought he'd break the skin—the words eating at him as he resisted the urge to tell Andrew everything. Andrew seemed to know it too since he continued to sit there, just waiting for Sam to come to terms with whatever it was that was eating at him by himself.

His skin crawled, and Sam couldn't take it any longer. "I met a girl."

At that, Andrew sat back—his eyes wide and his mouth imitating the letter 'o' as he let those words digest. It didn't take long. "It's about fucking time."

Sam's head jerked in Andrew's direction. "Wha—"

"I have been waiting for you to say those words for the past two years that I've known you! It's. About. Fucking. Time."

"But I didn't even mean it like that!"

Andrew's eyes narrowed. "Then what way did you mean it?"

Sam let out a breath and looked at the floor—the fact he still hadn't texted Mercedes back annoying him. "I saved her in that one apartment fire a few months back. We met up last week, I got her number and now…"

"…Now?" Andrew prodded.

Feeling the nerves hit him like a small train, Sam ran a hand through his dark blond hair as he thought over his words. He'd need a haircut soon.

"I don't even know. She wants to get to know me as a friend because that's all I'm willing to give her but she's asking about my past and I just… don't know."

It grew quiet between them again, and Sam let it sink in for Andrew.

He knew everything. He knew every little detail, and even knew how much it meant to Sam to keep those secrets. Sam's life was complex and crazy and sad, and Andrew knew exactly how much Sam wanted to spare as many people as possible from it. Had Sam had his way, Stevie and Stacey never would've been a part of his life. They would've found great adoptive parents, lived happily and healthily, they would've had an actual childhood…

He felt Andrew put a comforting hand on his shoulder before he registered the sting in his eyes. He was crying. Not a lot, but he knew his eyes must've been red. If Jonathan and Aiden turned around, they'd be able to see and then they'd want to know too.

Sam stood abruptly and walked out of the main room and straight into the garage. He knew Andrew would follow him in a second but he didn't care. He needed air. By the time he was walking out into the cool, New York City air and for once thankful they left the garage door open, he felt the pain in his chest lessen. The constriction he had started to feel when he was in there disappeared, and by the time he felt Andrew's presence behind him, he knew it had been a couple of minutes. Time always seemed irrelevant whenever his emotions got the better of him.

He heard Andrew's heavy steps behind him, but his eyes never wavered from sky.

"You can't just keep running away forever, you know."

A dark chuckle left Sam's lips. "I've gotten pretty good at it."

Andrew smiled sadly in reply as he regarded Sam with a soft look of concern. "Yeah, you have, but if you keep running, not even the kids will be able to help."

Sam's eyes connected with Andrew's as confusion flashed across his face. "Help with what?"

"You'll know when you're ready, Sam," Andrew muttered. The older man soon looked to the sky as he let those words sink in. Another quiet moment passed between them before Andrew lifted a hand to Sam's shoulder and squeezed. "When it's time, you'll know."

* * *

It couldn't be true. After all these years and completely forgetting it all for it to end up like this…? It had to be a joke. It had to be. He couldn't be the same person. …Could he?

Rereading over the last note that had been stashed away in that little envelope for God knows how long, Mercedes took in a shaky breath and let it out.

"He doesn't remember either?"

Mercedes shook her head slowly as she reread the last sentence. It was eight years old and the pencil had smudge a little bit, but clear as day it said, "I'll nver forget you, Mercy! Luv, Sam".

"I can't believe it! After all these years, and he saved your life and you saved his, and now you just happen to be in the same city again, and you two knew each other when you were younger and—"

"Kurt!"

"What?"

Mercedes sent him a look, hoping he'd read the message loud and clear to calm down without her having to tell him. He seemed to receive it, and after a few blinks, Kurt was taking in a breath and leaning back against the couch.

"I just can't believe it."

Mercedes laughed in surprise. "And you think I can? Kurt, I met a boy eight years ago on vacation in Disney World! He was my first kiss and we wrote notes back and forth during our entire time there, and he just happens to be all grown up and living in New York? This is insane!"

"No kidding!" Kurt let out in a breath as he looked at her. "What are the odds?"

She shook her head as she held back a laugh. Obviously her odds were better than winning the lottery and that was one in a million.

Feeling her phone vibrate beside her, having been forgotten for the past few minutes as she read over all the contents of that small little envelope, Mercedes unlocked her phone and read the text Sam had sent her.

**I'm sorry. I can't tell you that right now. I'm not ready.**

Mercedes' eyes dulled and a sense of sadness panged within her. What had happened to him?

Sucking her lips into her mouth in thought, Mercedes soon replied back—Kurt forgotten beside her.

_It's fine. You can tell me whenever you're ready._

It didn't take him long to reply back, and seeing what it said sent her heart beating quicker.

**Thanks, Mercy.**

* * *

It had been a few weeks since she had first found out. He still didn't know or seem to remember her, and every single day they talked—and they talked practically all the time now but never about his past—it killed her. He deserved to know, but what would happen if he did? Would he be happy? Would it remind of a childhood he never actually was able to have after that one fateful vacation?

Not telling him was messing with her mind.

Now, as she sat in front of him in the coffee shop they had first gone to weeks ago, she took in the sight of him.

Sam had changed slightly from their first meeting. A small smile always seemed to pull on the edge of his lips, but it never seemed to fully take over his face like she wished it would. The few times she had been able to get him to laugh were small moments she would take to her grave, but as soon as they came, they left. He never really let himself calm down and relax, and Mercedes knew it was because he never actually took time to himself. Whenever he actually tried to, he was uncomfortable. If he wasn't taking care of his siblings or working so he could, he felt out of place, and she wished more than anything that she could help him.

Watching him take a second out of his story telling about the one time one of his coworkers accidentally sent a nail flying into his foot at the constructions site so he could take a sip from his coffee, Mercedes smiled sadly.

Sam noticed this and hesitantly lifted the cup away from his lips. He set it down softly, and the look of concern on his face had her heart fluttering. "Are you okay? ...That probably wasn't the best story to tell. I'm sorry."

Mercedes shook her head. "It's okay. It wasn't bad. He's actually pretty dumb, but I guess it's a good thing he has health insurance."

That tiny small graced his face before he attempted to hide it by looking down. "Yeah," he chuckled lightly. "I guess it is."

Mercedes took a second to herself before bringing her own coffee to her lips. Taking a sip, she soon made a sound in her throat, and Sam looked up at her expectantly. "Have you applied to take your GED test yet?"

A small blush rose on his cheeks. "I shouldn't have told you about that…"

"No! No, I'm glad you did! You know," Mercedes said with a shy smile. "I can help you study. We could go to the library or even come here. You don't have to do it alone. Plus it'd be good to have it later if you end up needing it."

Sam shrugged and took another sip of his coffee. "Yeah, but you don't have to do that. If I'm going to do it, I'm gonna do it on my own. You have your own studies to work on. Don't you have a big Economics test coming up soon actually?"

At the mention of the bane of her existence, Mercedes groaned. "Don't even mention it."

"You starting to regret that Economics minor?"

"More like wanting to already back out and find another one."

"You can do it."

Mercedes' right eyebrow rose in amusement. "I can?"

Sam nodded. Not looking her in the eyes, Mercedes saw his ears turn red. "Of course. You're Miss Mercy Jones. You can do anything."

Her heart leapt into her throat and she hoped to God he couldn't see it.

Ever since finding those notes and talking to him more, Mercedes' thoughts never seemed to waver away from him unless she was focused on her studies. When she sang at TERRAIN, she sometimes let it take over her to help her performances, but moments like this, when he called her Mercy and made her feel invincible, she couldn't help but feel warmth in her heart.

She had it bad.

"Sam."

He hummed in reply as he distractedly watched someone almost drop their coffee up near the counter behind her. She waited for him to turn around and put all his attention onto her before continuing.

As soon as green locked onto brown, she muttered, "You can do anything too, you know."

His eyes seemed to widen a small fraction before a sad smile greeted her. Whatever it is he was holding back from her, it obviously weighed heavily on him. "Thanks," he whispered. "I know I don't tell you much, and I'm sorry for that, but really… thanks. I needed that."

Mercedes nodded quietly as she resisted the urge to smile. Ducking her head, she took a second to herself before finally looking back up again. Sam was staring at the floor, like he so often did, only this time he didn't hide the emotion on his face. He was happy, but the sadness that radiated from him was still there. Mercedes bet it always would be.

Picking up her coffee and standing, Mercedes giggled at the look of confusion on his face. "I have class in an hour," she said in amusement. His face changed as her words dawned on him, and he rose as well. As they went out the door, he held it open for her and caught up to her as soon as he had finished holding the door for someone else.

They were only two blocks away from the building her next class was in, and after having met at the Third Rail Coffee shop every other day for the past two weeks—most times with Sam getting absolutely nothing—he had gotten pretty good with knowing her schedule.

Before they even turned the corner, Mercedes' eyes unconsciously gravitated towards her left, and the sight of Washington Square Park caught her eye. She grabbed a hold of his arm and pointed, knowing that he was looking at her curiously. "Want to go there?" She asked as she turned her head. His reaction was slow, and Mercedes bit her bottom lip and she waited for his reply.

She wasn't ready to go just yet. She wasn't ready to leave him.

"Sure," Sam finally whispered as he began to walk in that direction with Mercedes following closely behind. He didn't directly shake her hand off of his arm, but she did lose her grip and her hand fell to her side.

Holding in the bit of disappointment that was growing in her gut, Mercedes followed him. Within a matter of seconds they were walking across the street and into Washington Square Park. Several people were enjoying the cool, autumn day. Some were walking dogs, some were lying in the grass, and a few were even painting the scenery. Mercedes loved the sunshine that shown down over them, but Sam seemed indifferent—almost as if he was lost in his thoughts.

Mercedes moved towards the nearest tree and sat down, waiting for Sam to sit down beside her with his drink in his hand before saying a word. It took a minute for the words to finally make sense in her head, but she wanted to know. They had spent weeks spending time together, getting to know each other, but the number one thing she wanted to know about him was the one thing he refused to talk about. She needed to know what happened to him. Eight years was a long time.

Her brown eyes watched him closely as her words landed right on the tip of her tongue. He idly watched someone paint a few yards ahead of them, completely oblivious to her wonder, but after a few moments, he turned to her and recoiled slightly when he saw her staring at him.

"What?"

Mercedes' lips set into a small line as she thought it over carefully. "Sam," she muttered—the urge to word vomit becoming worse the longer she waited. Finally, with a heavy sigh leaving her lips and her eyes closing in frustration, she whispered, "What happened to you, Sam?"

She refused to open her eyes. She wouldn't even be surprised if he had gotten up and walked away. Considering how secretive he was, it was likely that'd he's just leave. Her curiosity had finally gotten the better of her, and she wouldn't be surprised if he just completely shut down.

Hearing nothing but the birds above them and the people around them, Mercedes slowly opened one eye and then the other. She turned her body more towards where he sat—the fact he was still there slightly astounding her, and as the both of them stayed quiet, she just took him in.

Eyes closed, breathing controlled, head turned down… Was he mad? Shit.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked!" Mercedes quickly said as her eyes flickered down towards the purse in her lap and the coffee in between her knees. "I know you said you weren't ready weeks ago and that you apologized earlier because you're obviously still not ready but there's such grief surrounding you and I just want to be a better friend to you, to help you, but I feel useless. I just don't know what to do and it's killing me—"

"Mercy."

"—Why I thought it was okay to ask when I should've waited until you were ready; God, I'm such an idiot—"

"Mercedes."

"—I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I just…" Mercedes turned slightly fearful eyes to him, and for once she wished she could read his mind. "I just care about you," she whispered.

Sam was silent—his eyes never once wavering away from hers and he gauged the truth in her eyes. Whatever Andrew had been talking about all those weeks ago, it was suddenly starting to dawn on him. A lot of it still didn't make sense, but Sam knew that if he continued to stay friends with Mercedes, he'd figure it out.

Letting out a breath until all the air in his lungs completely left, he soon took in a deep breath before muttering the words that she knew was the hardest for him. "My parents died a few months apart from each other. They left me and my siblings to my dad's brother and we were physically abused for years. As soon as I was eighteen we moved out and into the small apartment we now live in. That was three years ago."

Mercedes stayed quiet as her mouth opened slightly in shock. While she had known that it was just him and his siblings, she never knew they had actually died. No wonder he felt all the responsibility was on him.

"Was that why you dropped out of school?" She asked.

Sam nodded and refused to look at her. "Mom died in a car crash and Dad left us with a broken heart and a bottle of Jack in his hand. We didn't find out till later—_I_ didn't find out till later until right before we moved out that it had all been my Uncle's doing. He had been the one driving the car that hit her. He knew how much my father loved my mother and planned on somehow killing the both of them so he could get my Dad's money that he had saved away right before they lost their jobs. She died instantly and they had never found any leads because the crash happened in the middle of nowhere. Had my Dad not started drinking, my Uncle probably would've killed him himself. As soon as I found out—" Sam cleared his throat and swallowed against the lump that rested there.

"When he told me, he threatened to kill Stacey if I didn't start paying him for rent and he hit her. Before he could lay another hand on her I jumped him and almost beat him to death. It wasn't until Stevie pulled me off that I came to. I told him that I wouldn't tell anyone as long as he never came after us or ever threatened Stacey and Stevie again, and if he did, I'd kill him and go to jail because I knew at least my siblings would have a better possibility of finding a good home through adoption then the life they'd have to live with me. They're cute and anybody would adopt them in a second. Sometimes… Sometimes I wonder if it would've been better for them that way. They can't keep living the way we're living. I'm ruining their lives—"

"No."

"No?" Sam's head whipped in Mercedes' direction and the despair in his eyes almost made her want to cry.

Shaking her head with tears stinging her eyes, Mercedes smiled. "I haven't met them yet, and I know I might not be able to later, but I know for a fact you're not ruining their lives, Sam. They have a caring brother who is doing everything he can to take care of them. They couldn't be in a better home."

"…Even though we're poor as shit?" Sam chuckled sadly.

Mercedes laughed with him. "Even though you're poor as shit."

Their eyes met and twin smiles were set on their lips. For the first time since she had met him, Mercedes felt like she could see a weight lift from his shoulders. It wasn't a huge one, but it was something.

Their moment was soon broken when a Frisbee came crashing into the tree behind them, narrowly missing Sam's head. He jumped back, slightly bumping into her shoulder, but once he was sure they were okay, he quickly grabbed ahold of the Frisbee and threw it back to the apologetic owner. When he turned back around, Mercedes saw that his ears were as red as a tomato.

"We better get you to your class before you're late," He said quietly as he fought the small smile on his lips.

Laughing, Mercedes nodded. The two stood, and quickly started in the direction of the building—the awkwardness that had been between them fading away.

Maybe they were getting closer after all.

* * *

Silently, Sam opened the front door to his apartment and closed it behind him. The moment he was safely inside he let out a low whistle, and just like they had talked about, Puck quietly came around the corner and nodded his head in greeting.

"How was your shift at the fire house?" Puck whispered—knowing that if he waked Sam's siblings, there would be hell to pay. It was past midnight and Sam's shift had just finished. Whenever Sam had to work late Puck offered to babysit every single time. The two guys had been close from the moment Sam had moved to New York City and the fact that Puck considered Stevie and Stacey his own siblings made Sam trust him like no other.

Shrugging, Sam took off his hoodie and threw it at the couch. "It was okay. There was a small kitchen fire and that was about it. It's been a pretty clear month so far."

Puck hummed in reply and grabbed the water bottle he had gotten from Sam's kitchen. He walked to the door and bumped fists with Sam before opening the door and leaving. With the nightly routine engrained in his brain, Sam quickly locked the door on each lock—he had three just in case—and walked into the living room. He deposited the keys in its customary drawer on the end table before flopping down on the couch and groaning.

His body was sore. While it was merely a small kitchen fire he took care of earlier, he had still had a shift at Wilson's Construction earlier in the morning. From the moment Stevie and Stacey were inside the school, Sam was on the clock and did not stop until this one moment.

He needed a vacation.

With a grunt, Sam stood from the kitchen and inched his way to Stevie and Stacey's room. Once he was sure they were safe and asleep, he went to his own. He shut the door and ripped his shirt off before throwing it onto the floor. Looking at the discolored carpet, he knew he'd have to do laundry soon or else he'd be wearing dirty clothes. He was meeting with Mercedes tomorrow, and he would be caught dead before smelling like sweat and other various, disgusting smells in front of her. She was from the other side of town, and while she knew he was poor and had two jobs, he couldn't bear it if she thought less of him… if she pitied him.

It'd ruin everything.

Sam leaned down and grabbed up every piece of clothing from the floor. He stuffed it all into a duffle bag so it'd be ready to go when he woke up. He'd go to the Laundromat later with Stevie and Stacey's clothes as well. They always loved going there for some reason.

Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, Sam tiredly took it out and opened the message. A shy grin lit up his face when he recognized the sender.

_You get home safe?_

**You worryin' about me, Mercy?**

_Boy, please. You have to walk three blocks to get home. Of course I am._

Sam smirked as he felt his entire face get hot.

Ever since their talk in the park two days ago, they hadn't stopped talking. Whenever they were free, they were texting each other back and forth, and even though Sam wouldn't admit it aloud, there was a bit of flirting going on.

Something had changed in him after telling her about his past. While he had told her the gist of it, there were still some things Sam didn't really know how to put into words. All that mattered though was the fact she still stood by him. She was his friend, and for that he was thankful.

Kicking the duffle bag of his dirty clothes near the door, he soon sat down on his bed and ran a hand through his dirty hair. He sat in nothing but his jeans and boxers, and for a second he wondered what Mercedes would think if she knew. Would she like him shirtless? Sam shook his head. No. He couldn't move too fast. He had his siblings to take care of and didn't have time for a girlfriend. He couldn't do that to them.

Sam unlocked his phone again and typed back a message. **It's cool. I'm used to it and practically know everybody in this neighborhood. Plus I keep a knife on me at all times. I know what's up. And if that ends up not working then I can always do that Spock knock out move. You know the one where he squeezes their shoulder?**

He could practically imagine her giggle. _You dork. Nobody in that neighborhood is gonna take you seriously if you do that._

**If not I'll just use the force then.**

_Crazy ass. Shouldn't you be asleep?_

**Shouldn't you?**

_Touché, young Jedi. I'll see you tomorrow right? 12 PM?_

Sam felt his heart speed up.

**You know it.**

* * *

"You have to tell him."

Frowning, Mercedes gripped the phone to her ear more tightly as she walked down the street towards Mamoun's Falafel Restaurant. Her only class for the day had just ended and she was on her way to meet with Sam when Kurt called.

Ever since he had found out he had hounded Mercedes to tell Sam about the letters and their past meeting. Mercedes avoided it every single chance she got, but now that it had been over three weeks, she knew she had to tell him finally. Kurt acting annoying in her ear only furthered it.

"I know, Kurt. I'm on my way to meet with him now."

"Where are you guys going?"

"Over to Mamoun's. I tried it back when Quinn was here on vacation and loved it. It's pretty cheap so I figured it'd be okay if we had lunch here."

"Do you mean cheap for you or him?"

Mercedes sighed. "If he can't afford it then I'll pay." She heard Kurt snort into the receiver. "What? I will! I don't mind."

"Yeah, you don't, but that doesn't mean he won't mind. Sam's a guy—a southern born guy at that. Knowing him he won't want you to take pity on him by buying him food."

"But it's not pity!"

"I know that and you know that but he's poor. He might not see it as anything _but_ pity."

Rolling her eyes, she swiftly looked both ways before crossing the road and getting onto Macdougal Street. She saw the Mamoun's tent and hoped she wasn't too late. "Kurt, I gotta go, I'm here."

"Tell him!"

"Bye, Kurt!" Mercedes replied back immediately right before her thumb hit the 'end' button.

Looking around, she quickly spotted Sam near the order window searching for her. He was turning his head left and right, and it wasn't until they were about ten feet away from each other that he finally saw her. Seeing his smile almost made her stop in her tracks. It made him look so happy and handsome.

"Hey," he said loudly once she was close enough.

"Hey yourself," she replied with a smile. "You haven't been waiting long have you?"

Sam shook his head. "I just got here actually. The bus was running a little late so I decided to walk a few blocks once I got to West 14th."

"Phew, I'm glad! I was so worried you had been waiting for the past fifteen minutes or so. When I got out of class I tried to book it straight here but ended up needing to get a copy of the syllabus since I lost mine." Giggling, Mercedes tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "You ready? I tend to get the same thing every time I come here. I'm starving."

"Did you not eat breakfast?"

Mercedes let out a chuckle. "Nope. Did I mention I woke up late too?"

Shaking his head, Sam let out a long drawn out, "No-pe!" in a high pitched voice in reply. Mercedes caught the sly look on his face and elbowed him in the arm. "No impressions of me, Mister! I am off limits!"

He laughed and put his hands up in surrender. The two calmed down a bit and finally turned towards the window and got ready to order. They were lucky today and only two people were in front of them and before either of them knew it—mostly due to the fact they kept distracting each other—they were at the window. Sam quietly ordered the cheapest thing on the menu while Mercedes got her favorite Shish Kebob sandwich. In no time at all it was ready and soon they were heading towards Washington Square Park, going straight to one of the concrete benches.

Sitting down and with Sam following suit right after, Mercedes unwrapped part of her sandwich and took a bite. She let out a small mewl and danced in her spot. Unbeknownst to her, Sam watched her in amusement as he took a bite of his own food. It was some sort of meat. It was good though.

After he finished his first bite, he licked his lips and turned to her. "So did you ever get your Economics test back?"

"Mm!" Mercedes swallowed her food as she nodded. "I did actually. I got an 89. I'm actually surprised I did that good." Feeling him bump her shoulder with his, she smiled.

"I told you could do it," he retorted. "Mercy Jones can do anything and you just proved it."

Mercy. Right. She had to tell him.

Glancing at him through her lashes, she wondered if she should wait until they were done eating. The nerves in her stomach told her otherwise, because she knew if she waited any longer, anything she ate would turn into a stomach ache. Repressing a groan, Mercedes wrapped up her sandwich and ignored Sam's questioning look.

"You're not gonna finish that?"

"Do you ever wonder why it felt like you knew me before we met several months back?"

Sam's eyes narrowed. "I did but then I just kind of… ignored it."

"So…" Mercedes hesitated. "You don't remember me at all."

"Should I?"

Had he not had a horrible past few years, she would've had the urge to slap him. Was that week not memorable for him? Well, she had forgotten too, but still, he had said he'd never forget her, and now that she knew him she knew he would never broke a promise.

Letting out a sigh, Mercedes' eyes flickered towards the Arch across from them before slowly working their way back to him. "It was 2005 in July… We just so happened to be in Disney World at the same time… you helped a lost girl at the hotel find her family and even saved her from eating peanuts—something she is highly-"

"—Allergic to…"

Hearing him finish her sentence had Mercedes' eyes widening. Sam's own green orbs were wide in shock, and just like that their food was forgotten.

He remembered.

Slowly, Sam turned his head towards her as his left hand gripped his knee. His right hand let his food fall onto the bench seat beside him so he could run that hand through his hair. He really needed to stop that nervous habit. "You're _Mercy_… The girl from Disney—I… You were my first kiss."

Mercedes nodded as she waited for it to all sink in. When he finally blinked, she continued on. "That box I told you about a few weeks back, well, it had our old letters that we wrote while on vacation. I found them and we even found that picture we took together in front of the Tree of Life in Animal Kingdom."

"We?"

Mercedes bit her lip. "Yeah, Kurt was there when I was looking through it, remember?"

Feeling her eyes on him, Sam opened and closed his mouth as their one week together washed over him.

They had been neighbors in the hotel they stayed at. Mercedes had gotten lost in the lobby and couldn't find her parents and Sam, who was a year younger, helped her find them. Both of their families became park buddies and went on all the rides together. They even ate dinner together and were practically inseparable. Their parents probably only went along with it because Sam and Mercedes didn't dare go anywhere without the other, but every single night before they went to sleep, they wrote each other a letter. If he read them now he'd probably be embarrassed, but remembering the small kiss they shared when they had to leave each other had his entire body turning red.

He had kissed Mercedes before.

Fuck. He had even dreamt about her for months after that one week!

Slowly and without moving his head, Sam's eyes sent a cautious look Mercedes' way. The sense of worry radiating off of her had him ready to bolt for some reason. As soon as that feeling came though, it left, and now another feeling came on.

What if he kissed her again? Something in his head clicked at that thought and he bit his lip.

For months he had been fighting that feeling of nostalgia and butterflies from the moment he had met her. Every day he attempted to ignore the beauty that was before him and even tried to forget the dreams that haunted him. Whenever they touched it was like fire, and the more they got to know each other, the more Sam liked her.

What were the fucking odds?

Sam felt Mercedes tug on his Henley and a spark ran up his arm. "Sam?" She whispered worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"I…" Sam gulped. He was fucked.

This was everything he had been trying to avoid! He had his siblings to take care of, he had to work all the time, he had to get his GED, he had to… he ran out of excuses. What excuses did he even have when he went out of his way to spend time with her even when they were just friends?

"Sam. Damn it. Did I break you?!"

A laugh bubbled up in his throat, and before he knew it, Sam was outright laughing and holding onto his gut. For a moment Mercedes thought she really had broken him until she started to laugh with him.

The two of them didn't even notice the weird looks they were receiving—they were in their own little world.

Seconds past, and when Sam finally was able to contain himself, he was wiping a stray tear from his eye. "It's almost unbelievable."

"What?" Mercedes giggled. "The fact that we found each other eight years later or…?"

Sam nodded. "Only fate would do some sort of crazy shit like this so yeah. God, I can't believe you're the girl I dreamt about the entire time I went through puberty—although I forgot your face when I reached thirteen. Hell, I even dream about you now…"

A tiny gasp left Mercedes' lips at his words. "You dream about me?"

"Uhm…" Sam gave her a sheepish look. "…Yeah… I wasn't supposed to actually say that allowed but… yeah."

"I dream about you too."

Sam's eyes locked with hers. Just like it had that one night in TERRAIN, everything locked into place, and time seemed to stand still. His body gravitated towards hers and hers seemed to do the same.

Just as they were a few inches away from each other, Sam whispered, "What do you dream about when you dream about me?"

"I…" Mercedes bit her lip, and it took everything in Sam for him to not free it and suck on it as if it were candy.

Had Sam been in the right mind at the moment, he would've told himself that he was moving way too fast, but he couldn't care less. All he wanted to do in that moment was find out if her lips were as soft as they were back when he was a preteen. Mercedes seemed to have the same thought, because instead of answering, she cleared the space between them and pressed her lips against his.

Sparks flew and tingles took over.

He was a goner and so was she.

* * *

**A/N: **So what do you think? I think it moved kind of fast but if I moved any slower it would've been much longer! Each chapter kind of is dedicated towards a certain part in their relationship so some chapters may be much longer than this later on. Or shorter, it depends.

Review!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **So... yeah. Beware of errors.

* * *

"Sam-mmmy!"

A headache was forming.

For the past couple of days, Sam had been nothing but a ball of stress. If it wasn't work, it was chores at home, and if it wasn't that it was Puck's incessant pleas for him to go out and actually have a life. It was slowly killing him. At the beginning of the week everything had seemed perfect, and that only made him more stressed in the end.

After kissing Mercedes the two had blushed and acted like a couple of preteens. Neither of them actually talked about the kiss afterwards, but that didn't stop their hands from moving towards each other. The fact her small hand fit perfectly inside his had not gone unnoticed by him. It was like they were made for each other, and each time that thought passed through his head, he always had to tell himself, "Slow down! You're going too fast! You just got each other back! Don't lose her!"

"Sammy!"

"What?" Sam shouted—his eyes never leaving the sausage patties he was currently cooking on the stove.

Down the hall he could hear his sister fumbling with something, and before long she stood before him. Averting his eyes from their breakfast, Sam sent her a look. "Something wrong?"

The sever year old pouted. "My clothes are ripping."

"Where?"

As Stacey began pointing out the rips and holes in her jeans and even the ones on her shirt underneath the armpit, Sam moved the fully cooked sausage patties onto a nearby paper plate.

"Didn't we just get you new clothes, Stace?" Sam asked.

She shook her head. "We got these at the beginning of last school year. I did what you said and have a certain set of clothes just for playing but these have been here for a while. I... I didn't want to say anything. My shoes too..."

His headache was getting worse.

"You also didn't help me with my homework last night like I asked."

Sam's eyebrows narrowed in confusion as he leaned against the counter. "What was I doing instead?"

When Stacey shrugged, he felt his heart fall into his gut. "You were textin' someone."

That someone being Mercedes—or Mercy as she was now identified in his phone.

Feeling the hunger that had plagued him for the past couple of hours suddenly leave in a rush, Sam's mouth tightened into a thin line before he sighed. He quickly took all of the breakfast he had made and set it onto the table. Mumbling for Stacey to get their brother, Sam yanked one of the chairs out from underneath the old oak wood dining table and sat down with a plop. He tiredly ran a hand through his hair as he waited for them to come back to eat breakfast.

Sam had been up since ten last night and it was already seven in the morning. He had gotten the late shift at the firehouse because he worked all day at the latest construction site. All the hours last night had practically bled into each other, and had he not heard Stevie and Stacey sitting down to eat breakfast, he would've thought he fell asleep.

A few minutes passed and he heard Stevie mumble, "Aren't you eating?" in between bites.

Shaking his head, Sam ran a hand down his face and rested his chin into the palm of his hand. "I'm good. Once y'all are at school I'll eat and sleep before my shift later."

This seemed to satisfy him, but Stacey's worried look didn't go unnoticed.

By the time his siblings were up and out for school—with Stacey's homework thankfully done rather easily as they were waiting for the bus—Sam soon found himself sitting bonelessly on his couch.

His head throbbed, and the thought of getting up and getting an Advil only seemed to make it throb harder.

Mercedes and him had been... whatever they were for a week now. Just one single week, and the fact Sam was already slipping up had his stomach churning. If he couldn't have a-they weren't really girlfriend and boyfriend yet so what was Mercy really? A friend with benefits even though they hadn't really done anything yet? Some girl he had feelings for? Sam closed his eyes and rolled down into a lying position on the couch.

She was his Mercy, he thought after a moment. Nothing else was needed. One thing that was needed though was a difference on Sam's part.

Mercedes was doing everything perfectly. They were going slow, they were being careful, and above all, she was a hundred percent into him putting his siblings first. Obviously that last part had already failed on account of him. They needed new clothes, he had forgotten to help Stacey with her homework even after she had asked him, and knowing Stevie, he probably hadn't brushed his teeth this morning because Sam had been too engrossed in himself. The kid always had to be on surveillance, and Sam knew that. If Sam wasn't watching him and making sure he did something, then Stevie would undoubtedly bypass it, and not brushing his teeth was his favorite pastime.

And, not to mention, he had "rent" due soon. That fact alone had Sam attempting to curl up into a ball.

Before he could completely dwell on all his faults and even think of possibly doing something drastic, he heard his phone vibrate on the table. His eyes squeezed tightly in confusion before he opened them and reached for it. The name he saw pop up in the text slightly comforted his already frustrated brain.

_Hey you._

Sam smiled lopsidedly. **Hey. How has your day been so far? I'm surprised you're up. Your class isn't until later.**

He could practically feel her playful side-eye from across the city. _I get up early sometimes! Kurt wanted to drag me out to this Yoga place and he promised me some Tick Tock Diner if I went. Have you ever been there? It's amazing!_

**Nah. I normally stay in South Bronx if I don't have a job or if I'm not hanging with you.**

_Well now it's official. We'll have our first date at Tick Tock. It's not too expensive so I'll pay if needed._

Eyes widening a fraction, Sam felt his ears turn hot as well as the rest of his face. Did she really just say it like… like that? He had ignored the 'I'll pay' part because she had done so before and constantly made sure he felt okay whenever she did, but their first date? Wasn't he supposed to be the one asking her? She wasn't really asking anyways, but that was beside the point.

His phone vibrated in his hand and his mind snapped back to the current matter at hand.

_I just freaked you out, didn't I?_

Sam bit his bottom lip. **A little.**

_Sorry. ): I kind of got ahead of myself… I just really want to see you again. It's been a few days._

**No, it's okay.**

_You sure?_

Thinking back to the stress that had hit him just a few minutes earlier, Sam decided to take a chance.

She had told them right after their kiss if he ever needed to talk or remind to take it slow, he could, and right now he really needed to talk to her.

**Yeah, but that's not really what I've been worrying about.**

_What have you been worrying about?_ She was wary now, he could tell.

**Both my siblings need new clothes and I forgot to help them with their homework. I'm worried that I'm already starting to forget them. It's not because of you, it's because of me. I don't know; I feel like if I don't focus everything on them then something bad will happen.**

As Sam waited for her reply, he took a moment to breathe deeply and attempt to calm his nerves. It had taken him a good two minutes alone to type out that entire thing, but now that it was sent, all he could do was hope that she would get it and that she would, somehow, help him. He knew she could do it, but something in the back of his mind was worried.

By the time he felt his phone vibrate in his hand again, he felt better.

_Sammy, trust me when I say that you taking some time to yourself will never be a bad thing. You work your ass off every single day to take care of them and you deserve a vacation every now and then. Not saying I'm a vacation, but if seeing me helps you in anyway, then I'm completely fine with coming over and helping you with your siblings. I actually would love to meet them._

_I'll do anything you want me to, to help you on this, okay?_

Taking in a deep breath, Sam closed his eyes.

**Okay.**

* * *

He was fidgeting and couldn't stop.

Two days had passed since Mercy had comforted him, and after agreeing that she could help him, he had agreed to a single date. One was enough for now, and Sam was sure there would probably be more afterwards. He could never have enough of her—that was clear as day now that he practically dreamt about her every night.

Walking down Waverly Place, Sam swallowed against the feeling in his throat as he came upon Mercedes' apartment.

He hadn't known where she lived before, but now that he did he knew she practically lived in the middle of everything. She was right next to Washington Park where they had their first kiss, down the street from their first couple of non-dates at Mamoun's and Third Rail, and she was only a block or two from the NYU campus where they had seen each other again after that one night at TERRAIN. She was in the middle of it all.

Looking up at her apartment building, Sam quickly checked the text message she had sent with her address on it before sighing. This was it.

He entered the building and quickly worked his way up the stairs to her floor. She was on the fifth one and by the look of the door and the apartment building itself, he could tell it was quite a hefty bill every month.

Staring at the door and taking a second to calm his fast beating heart, Sam lifted his hand and knocked. Within seconds he could hear someone cursing behind the heavy door, and after a few seconds, his Mercy opened the door.

"Hi," she greeted—slightly out of breath.

Sam blinked. "…Hi... Am I—Am I early?"

Mercedes shook her head, and Sam had to take a moment to breathe. She wasn't even completely ready yet and she was still beautiful. She always was beautiful.

Sam felt his heart leap into his throat.

She smiled at him and opened the door a bit more. "Want to come in and wait? I'm almost ready. At least this time you don't need a fire to be able to come in."

Laughing nervously, he stepped inside and began to take in his surroundings. As she moved out from behind him after locking the door and went straight to her room, Sam noticed that it looked rather homey. While the walls were white, Mercedes had decorated it extremely well with colorful objects. Her clock was a deep purple, her couch a baby blue, and her wooden furniture was white but had a slightly used look to it. Pictures of her family and friends adorned her walls, and Sam saw a desk off to the side by the fireplace, adjacent to her flat screen TV. It looked just like her.

"You can sit down, you know." He heard her call from inside her room.

Sam's ears turned red, and he slowly worked his way over to the couch. "Did your last apartment look like this?"

"Not really. The last one had more of a wannabe Broadway star look to it. I blame Kurt really. In this one I was able to work with it a little more, and I wanted something that was homey but sleek."

"It's nice," Sam whispered as his butt and back rested comfortably against the plush couch.

He took a glance behind him and could see a glimpse of Mercedes as she got ready at her vanity. An image of her in the fire by the window flashed in his mind. Attempting to shake it off, he took the opportunity to watch as she applied her mascara. She made a funny face, her mouth open in an 'o' shape, and Sam couldn't help but smile.

Turning back around, he tapped his fingers against his thigh—his smile still tugging on his lips. For the first time in a few days he felt calm. Simply being in her presence did that to him.

"I'm almost ready," she called from her bedroom. "I just need to put on shoes."

Sam turned his head back around and watched her. "It's okay, take your time."

She was within her short heels and out of her bedroom door with her purse on her shoulder in a minute flat. Sam stood to meet her, and for a moment, he let himself relish in the feel of her hips in his hands. He resisted the urge to greet her with a kiss, but she beat him to it. Her lips graced his cheek, making his face turn red.

"Ready to go?" Mercedes asked as she ran her hands up her arm.

Nodding, Sam grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. He watched idly as she shut and locked the door behind them.

The cab ride to the Tick Tock Diner was quiet. Mercedes' hand never left his, and before they were even halfway there she rested her head on his shoulder. Sam could see the curious look the cab driver was giving them in the rear view mirror but Sam didn't mind; simply feeling her next to him made everything okay—even the fact that Puck was currently watching his siblings and possibly having to persuade Stevie with candy in order to get him to take a bath.

He felt the taxi stop before the driver said a word. Sam looked out the window as the drier turned around and announced their arrival, and before Sam could turn around and get his wallet out, Mercedes was already paying for it.

Mercedes smiled sheepishly as she pointed at the door. "Ready?"

Pursing his lips for a second, Sam nodded and opened the door. As soon as he was out he gave Mercedes a hand. The two of them turned and began walking into Tick Tock, and after Sam told the waitress that there were two of them, they soon found themselves sitting in a far side of the diner.

It was quiet between them as they waited for their waiter or waitress, but Sam could tell that Mercedes wasn't okay.

Glancing in her direction, his eyebrows narrowed in worry. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied back quietly as she fiddled with her napkin. "I just... Are—Are you mad that I paid for the drive over here?" Her doe-like brown eyes looked up into his cautiously. Sam felt swallowed against the thickness in his throat.

"I—"

Before he could finish, their waiter walked up and introduced himself. He quickly got their drink orders and left, and it was once again quiet between them.

Sam could feel Mercedes' eyes watching him. His own green eyes hesitated to meet hers, but it didn't stop them. Like a moth to a flame, their eyes met and immediately Sam lost his breath. When had he become this whipped?

"I'm sorry," she muttered quietly. Her eyes flickered from him to their waiter who was quickly approaching them, and Sam felt guilt wash over him.

Their waiter, Alan, set their drinks down and gave them a smile. "Have you guys decided what you're going to have today?"

Sam swallowed thickly, his hand grasping onto the menu he hadn't touched yet. Opening it, he picked the cheapest thing his eyes caught first. "I'll, uh... I'll have a bagel with cream cheese." In the corner of his eye he saw Mercedes' mouth openly slightly, and he immediately regretted ordering anything at all.

She was hurt. She thought he was rejecting her.

Mercedes quickly got herself together before Alan could turn to her. "I'll have a Chipotle burger." Her hand reached out for the sweetener on the end of the table, and as Alan left to go put their orders in, she put the sweetener in her Tea.

"Is it not sweet enough?"

Not looking at him, she took a sip. "Anytime I order Sweet Tea in New York it's never sweet enough. It's like they don't know how to make it up here in the North."

Sam nodded in understanding. Having been a Southern boy himself, he completely understood. The culture here was different. Up here, it was seen as almost normal—from what he could tell at least—for a woman to pay instead of the man, but at a Tennessee born and raised man, it irritated him.

"I should've paid."

Mercedes' head snapped up at him. Wide-eyed and curious, she waited for his next words as her hands fell into the safety of her lap.

Taking in a breath, he kept his eyes to his glass of water in front of him. "Back there, in the cab… I should've paid. I should be paying for this meal. I should've been able to buy you a rose and given it to you as soon as you opened the door. I should be able to buy us movie tickets. I should be able to buy you fuckin' popcorn…"

"Sam—"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted. Sam's eyes rose to meet hers, and held them. "I know that you don't mind paying for things and don't even think about it because you're that kind of person—you don't mind helping those who can't help themselves and you do it unconsciously, but as the man in this relationship, I don't know… I just hate that I can't provide for you."

"This is our first date, Sam. I don't expect you to do anything differently than what you're doing right now."

Sam nodded. "I know. I just still wish—I want to do this right. I want to do by you right. I've never really had this chance before. I haven't even liked anyone before or after the first time I met you." Sam chuckled sadly. "I'm afraid I'm guessing to mess it up."

"Hey." Feeling her small hand grab ahold of his on the table top, Sam smiled lopsidedly when she squeezed. He looked straight into her eyes as she continued. "You are doing everything perfectly right by me. You have a very hard life. You risk your life every day, you do everything you can to protect and provide for your siblings… Sam, simply being with me and making me happy is enough. Until you can get on your feet better, I have no problem whatsoever paying for anything we do. I make enough at TERRAIN to provide for myself. Buying a few meals or even a movie ticket here and there so I can be with you is no trouble at all, okay?"

He could see the sincerity in her eyes and it made his blood quicken throughout his body. She was, down to her core, a good person, and simply hearing her words and seeing the feelings in her eyes told him all that he needed to hear.

She didn't care that he didn't have money. She didn't care that she might have to pay every now and then. She didn't care. It liberated him.

Squeezing her hand back, he muttered a quiet, "Thank you," as Alan came back and brought their food with them.

"All right," Alan began enthusiastically as set down both their plates. "Is there anything else I can get you guys?"

His measly bagel looked pathetic against her delicious burger, and the growling of his stomach made itself known. Mercedes giggled—having heard his hunger—and pointed to her plate. "Yes… I know it's a little late, but would it be okay if we got another Chipotle burger plate? My boyfriend here changed his mind."

Alan nodded and quickly wrote it down on his little pad of paper before leaving them alone once again. Sam felt her tighten her grip around his hand and it made him smile.

"You didn't have to do that."

Looking into his eyes with a shy grin, Mercedes ran her thumb across the back of his hand. "I know."

"And you called me your boyfriend."

"Is that okay?" She asked timidly.

He saw her catch her bottom lip between her teeth nervously, and he couldn't help but enjoy the word as he ran it through his head. Boyfriend.

Maybe he finally understood Andrew completely. If Mercy hadn't shown up again exactly when she did, what would've happened? You could've been dead.

As that thought ran through his head, Sam leaned up out of his seat and over the table as best he could without making anything fall over. Unhurriedly and with a tenderness he didn't even know he was capable of, Sam let his lips brush against hers in a kiss, and just like before, nothing else mattered but them.

"It's more than okay."

* * *

Their hands dangled between them but neither of them were moving at a very fast pace.

It was seven at night and nearing the end of September so the last rays of sunlight were fading fast. The sun was darkening with colors of red and orange above the tall buildings as Sam walked Mercedes back to her apartment. While it was a rather long walk from Tick Tock to her apartment, they didn't really care. After the first few weird minutes at the diner, Sam and Mercedes had clicked into a perfect place and it the first date Sam had always imagined. It was better than what Mercedes had expected.

They talked for over an hour and ended up needing a box for both of their food. While it still stung slightly knowing that she was paying for it all—even his bagel that was currently nestled right beside his half eaten burger—it didn't hurt nearly as much as it did before in the taxi. For some reason, everything was all right whenever they were together, and that was most likely the reason it didn't matter to either of them that they were currently walking from one end of Manhattan to the other. It was a thirty minute walk, but it was filled with laughter.

His Mercy was currently giggling adorably to one of his John Wayne impressions as her hand never left his.

They were about ten minutes from her apartment when she spotted him. A small gasp left her lips and it made Sam stop his stride. "Is everything okay?"

"Shh!" Mercedes pulled him closer to her as she inched her way towards the wall of the closest building.

"Uhm," Sam pursed his lips. "Why are we hiding?"

"Kurt's over there," she whispered as if it would answer everything.

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, he attempted to catch sight of her friend but soon sighed. He had only ever seen pictures of Kurt, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what exactly he looked like. "And?"

"He's with a guy."

Sam's eyebrow rose as he sent her a look. Was she really that much shorter than him? He could practically rest his head on top of hers and—and he was supposed to be worrying about Kurt right now. "Your point?"

The glare she sent him had him laughing. "He's been seeing this guy for a few months now but hasn't told me anything! I just wanna know if that's him."

"And what if it is? I'm sure Kurt will tell you in his own time."

"Or he's worried that I won't like him."

Sam shrugged and attempted to search for her best friend again. After a few seconds he was about to give up, but as soon as he caught sight, he had a feeling he knew why Kurt was hiding it. "Mercy, I don't think we should be spying."

"Why?" She asked as she lifted herself onto her tip toes. "Do you see something? Ugh, I hate being short."

Before he could say another word, he felt her grip his hand.

She saw him.

Even though Sam wasn't a huge baseball fan—mostly because he was too busy working—he still knew who the newest Mets third base player was. David Karofsky was his name, and obviously Kurt was his newest game.

The two of them weren't holding hands like Sam and Mercedes were, but the look in both of their eyes spoke differently. They watched in slight awe as Kurt and Dave walked into a nearby apartment building, and Sam could feel the hurt radiating off of his girlfriend. "Mercedes?"

"He didn't tell me."

"It might be because Dave is still in the closet. I mean, I don't think he's out. Hell, he might not even be with Kurt like that…"

"Yeah…" Mercedes breathed—her eyes steering away from the apartment building she had just watched her best friend walk into and moving towards Sam. She sent him hesitant smile in hopes of reassuring him that she was okay.

Too bad it didn't work.

The few remaining minutes that they had left were spent in almost near silence. Every so often one of them would break the silence—namely Sam—and attempt to start a conversation, only for it to end all too quickly for either of their liking.

Sam could tell that seeing Kurt with somebody without her knowledge hurt, especially since he was keeping it from her. He didn't know why exactly her best friend was hiding it, but he bet it was because Dave wasn't out yet. He was in a major sport that resided in New York City. If he was scared that it would affect his career, then it was probably a good thing he was keeping it a secret.

They came upon her door far sooner than Sam wanted. The dark purple door was a stark contrast to her bright red shirt and jeans, and it only made Sam hunger for something other than the food that was in his free hand. Now wasn't the time.

"I had a good time tonight," Mercedes whispered as she squeezed his palm.

She looked up at him with adoration shining in her eyes, although the hurt from earlier still hid behind it. Hoping to ease it somewhat, Sam leaned towards her until they were only a centimeter apart with her back barely brushing the door. Seconds past by like hours as he slowly made his way to her lips, and with a simple touch they felt like one.

Heat rose within his body and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was as if electricity had taken over his veins, and it happened every single time they kissed.

He would be addicted soon.

Breaking away, Sam didn't go too far, instead favoring to share the same breath as her as they both took in the air around them. He stared into her eyes and she stared right back, and with one last grin, Sam sighed. "Have a wonderful night, Mercy."

She smiled shyly, and a slight redness adorned the apple of her cheeks. "You too, Sam. Text me later?"

Sam nodded. With one last slow peck to her lips, Sam took a few steps back away from her and waited until she was within the safety of her apartment before turning around a thrusting a fist in the air. He silently cheered and even almost kicked a nearby wall in his enthusiasm.

Had he been able to see through walls, he would've been able to see Mercedes watching him through the peep hole with a giggle.

* * *

_**So who is he?**_

Raising an eyebrow, Mercedes snorted quietly as she looked at her phone.

She was sitting in the middle of her third Psychology course since she first started attending NYU and was all the way in the back. Ms. Steven was currently going over an editorial she had assigned them over the weekend, and like the straight A student Mercedes was, she had read that piece three times. She had even taken notes. Everything that came out of Ms. Steven's mouth that was about that article at this point was useless. That was why Mercedes pulled out her phone.

At first she had just been checking her email, but then Quinn had texted her. It was about how Quinn was gonna try and come up during Christmas time before going with Mercedes to see their family back in New Orleans. At this point it was practically tradition.

She sent her phone a side-eye for a moment longer. _Who is who?_

_**Don't do this, Cede. I know something's going on otherwise you wouldn't use so many smileys.**_

_I'm not using that many!_

_**Are you kidding? You even sent a smiley face when you said "You don't mind sleeping on the couch do you? :)"**_

Glaring at her phone, Mercedes scrolled up through their texts in hopes of proving her wrong. To her disdain, there was a smiley staring her right in the face on the exact text Quinn had been talking about. Fuck.

_Okay, okay. Nosey. His name is Sam._

A few seconds passed before Quinn texted her back. _**And?**_

_And…. We're dating._

The new text full of random letters had her holding in a laugh. Quinn was known to keyboard smash sometimes. When Mercedes guessed that she had calmed down, she read, _**When did this happen and WHY did you not tell me?**_

_It only happened a couple of days ago. We actually knew each other when we were younger._

_**He didn't go to our school did he?**_

_No. I met him on that Disney vacation I went to back when I was like twelve._

_**Wait is it that Sam guy?**_

Mercedes blinked at the tiny screen in confusion. Chancing a glance at Ms. Steven to make sure she wasn't missing anything important or that the teacher was on to her texting, she quickly typed back a reply. _How do you know that?_

_**Puh-lease, Cede. During our entire 6th grade yr he was practically all you talked about!**_

_I think it was 7th grade._

_**Cede that was years ago, okay? Being politically correct is not important right now. Send me a picture! I want to see what he looks like.**_

Chewing on her bottom lip, Mercedes sent curious eyes up towards the front of the classroom in thought. Ms. Steven was still completely oblivious to Mercedes' current turmoil and for that she was thankful.

She didn't really have a good picture of Sam—or a picture of him period. They hadn't even taken pictures together yet or anything like that so what was she supposed to show Quinn? She could always ask for Sam to take a selfie and to send it to her but he would probably be weirded out by that. Who actually asked their boyfriends—Mercedes internally squealed—to take pictures of them so they could send it to their best friends? Not even Kurt knew what he looked like!

Mercedes groaned quietly but was quickly relieved of her temporary hell in the form of the Ms. Steven calling the class to an end. Not a single word or letter was on the blank sheet of paper in front of her which was uncommon. Even if it was just to reiterate everything that had been discussed in the article, Mercedes was still known to take notes on Ms. Steven's personal opinion; that is if she ever gave it.

Rolling her eyes, she quickly and quietly deposited her notebook in her book bag and her phone in her purse. By the time she was outside her classroom, she fetched her phone out and speed dialed Quinn. Within two rings, she picked up.

"Is that a 'no' to a picture or…?"

Mercedes pursed her lips. "I don't have one."

"Not even a single one? Or a Facebook page I can stalk?"

"Nope," Mercedes sighed. "He doesn't even own a computer."

"So he's poor?"

The slight inflection that Quinn added at the end of her question had Mercedes' eyebrows narrowing. "So?"

"So wha—Oh, nothing!" Quinn replied back hastily. "I'm just kind of surprised. It's not a bad thing. We've all been through really hard times. I'm just kind of surprised that you met him is all. You usually hang around nice places."

"…Nice places?"

"Cede, you have rich taste. You get it because Daddy Jones spoiled you."

Frowning for a second, Mercedes soon shrugged her shoulders, figuring that her best friend was right. She did like nice things, even if they were really expensive. Her shoe collection was proof of that. Turning down the hallway and out the door of the school building, Mercedes began to walk in the direction of her apartment.

"Okay, so we didn't really meet in the normal way…"

"How did you guys meet?"

Mercedes heard a car horn honking over the phone and temporarily wondered where exactly Quinn was. "He saved me from that apartment fire a couple of months ago."

"Wait, so he's the hot fireman you went on about for weeks? Good going! Now I really want to see what he looks like. I bet he's built."

"You have no idea," Mercedes purred quietly. The image of him in a tight white shirt from when they first saw each other again back at TERRAIN flashed through her mind, and she grinned. She certainly was lucky.

She heard Quinn squeal. "I can't wait to meet him! In little over a month I'll be there in New York with you and then we can go back and see our parents. God, Mercedes, I have missed you so much."

"I miss you too, Q; so much. I know for a fact that my parents can't wait to see you again."

"I can't wait to see them either!"

Just as Mercedes was about to ask Quinn if anything new was happening with her, Mercedes heard her phone beep. A quick look to her screen showed that Sam texted her, asking her to meet him at Washington Square Park.

"Hey, Q?"

"Yeah?"

"I gotta go. The boyfriend asked to present me with his presence."

Quinn giggled. "Fine. I'll let you go. Skype session tomorrow like normal?"

"Of course! See you then."

"Bye!"

Mercedes gave a 'bye' back in return and deposited her phone in her purse. With a new swing in her step, she marched her way towards Washington Square Park. It wasn't a long walk from her last class and she made it in all of two minutes. Immediately she caught sight of Sam and sauntered her way on over to him—his eyes taking all of her in.

"I'm kind of disappointed that I didn't get to surprise you. You saw me too quickly," Mercedes flirted as soon as he was within a few feet of her.

Kissing her play pout right off of her lips, Sam ran his hands up her hips and towards her waist. He brought her in closer before sneaking in a soft kiss to her nose, earning a sweet giggle in reply. "Nah, I like it better this way. Watching you walk towards me was perfect."

"Oh, really?"

"Mmhm," he hummed. Sam rested his forehead on top of hers as a calm feeling went straight to his core knowing that she was in his arms. "So I did a thing."

"A thing?" She breathed.

"Yeah, I may—or may not—have signed up to take the GED test."

"Sammy!" A giant smile bloomed on Mercedes' face as soon as the words left his lips. Her arms quickly took him into a squeezing hug, and she couldn't help but kiss his chin.

Sam was gonna get his GED. He was gonna kick the test's ass and with it be able to do so many things. He finally had better possibilities now. He could go to college.

"Sam, I'm so proud of you! Do not worry!" Mercedes let go of him for a second so she could look into his eyes. He seemed apprehensive, but happy. "I will help you every step of the way. Oh, babe, I will tutor you and everything, okay? You will ace that test so hard that it will cry."

Laughing, Sam pulled her close. "The test will cry?" When Mercedes nodded, he took her face in his hands and kissed her sweetly on the lips. "I wouldn't have signed up if it weren't for you," he whispered. The shy smile that graced her beautiful face had his heart thumping.

"I think you would have," she replied back quietly. "You're willing to do whatever it takes to help your siblings and this is just one step that could help." Mercedes lifted herself onto her tip toes so she could bump her nose against his. "I'm so proud of you."

Blushing, Sam ran his hands up her back. "I'm proud of me too."

* * *

His test was next week and he had been studying for a month.

Almost every single day was spent studying for it. When he was at work at the Firehouse, Andrew helped him in the form of flashcards that Mercedes had made. When he was at the construction site, he would attempt to memorize important dates during his lunch hour. Any time that he could afford was spent on studying for the GED test, and numerous times Sam had found himself at Mercedes' apartment in an impromptu study date. Sam still remembered the small bout of surprise when she first found out about his Dyslexia. She was supportive and had no trouble spending extra time on certain things or reading for him if it got too bad. She was amazing. On their study dates Mercedes would make dinner—her spicy chicken lasagna so far being his favorite—and they would spend the rest of the time looking over the material. A few times they had taken breaks that led into small make-out sessions but nothing more had ever happened. Sam didn't really know if he was sad about that.

He was beyond attracted to his girlfriend, that was clear, but he hadn't had sex in almost a year. What if he had lost it? What if he sucked? If he did suck, what if she broke up with him?

Thinking about that now when he should be reading brought an uneasiness to Sam's stomach and all the letters began to blur together. They had been dating a month and he was already second guessing himself.

"All right so I think you got this section," Mercedes said as she moved a book from her lap and onto the small table in front of her—completely oblivious to Sam's inner turmoil. He could see her looking at him in the corner of his eye. "Want to go onto the next section of the practice test or do you wanna take a break?"

Fuck yes. "A break would be nice."

Mercedes grinned. Rubbing his back with her right hand, she stood and went into her kitchen, muttering something about needing some water. By the time she got back, Sam had thrown his own practice book onto the table and his cell phone as well and was staring at her.

Sitting down on the couch beside him, an eyebrow rose as she put her bottled water on the table. "...Yes?"

At her question, she saw his face turn bright red. "I—uhm... It's nothing."

"Then why the face?"

Sam pouted. "I'm not making a face."

"Sure," Mercedes giggled. She moved in closer to him so she could kiss his chin before settling against the back of the couch, their legs brushing against each other casually.

Gulping, Sam leaned back against the couch as well but let his left hand rest on her thigh up towards her knee. They exchanged quick glances-Sam's being full of nerves while Mercedes' shown with a certain light he hadn't seen before. Before he could question it, she was leaning towards him slowly until their lips were only a breath away.

"Sam?" She breathed.

Eyes widening, Sam cleared his throat. "Y-Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

"Okay."

Sam didn't wait. As soon as that one word left his mouth, he crushed his lips against hers. A hunger their make-out sessions had never had before fueled each press of their lips, and even through the haze of electricity that ran through him every time they kissed, Sam could tell she felt the exact same way. She wanted him.

Kisses steadily got hotter and Mercedes ran her left hand through his hair and tugged gently. A groan vibrated in his chest, and it made her grin into their next heat-filled kiss.

Before Sam really knew what was happening, Mercedes was on her back with him on top of her. He had lifted himself onto his left elbow so he wouldn't crush her, but she had other plans. Her hands inched their way under his black t-shirt and up his back, attempting to pull his weight onto her to sandwich her between the couch and him. Languidly, her legs opened to accommodate him and neither of them could hold in the moan of approval at the new feeling.

Slowly, Sam kissed the corner of her mouth and trailed his kisses down towards her collar bone. He suckled on her flesh for a moment—not afraid of leaving a hickey before he returned to her lips.

Mercedes took charge then. She swiped her tongue along his bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth. She nibbled on the plump morsel, making him groan, as she began to move her hips in a clock-wise motion against his steadily growing hardness.

The softness and warmth below his hips had his hands grasping at her own. Pinning her down, Sam lazily thrust his hips against her, earning a breathy moan of pleasure. A sigh of, "Sammy," left her lips and suddenly there was nothing else in the world but her.

Apprehensively, Sam's large hand let go of hers. He hesitantly brought it down to the bottom of her own t-shirt and ran his thumb underneath the cotton as their tongues met in a kiss. She tasted sweet, just like the chocolate brownies they had, had at the beginning of their studying. The resulting small gasp at their skin-to-skin touch encouraged him. Calmly, he moved his hand upwards underneath her shirt. A shiver ran through her and the fact he could feel it made him smile. In reply, Mercedes moved her hands further up underneath his shirt before rounding his back and focusing on his abs. His stomach tightened, and along with the movements of their hips, Sam's mind went hazy.

"Sam," Mercedes whispered. She tugged on his shirt and he got the memo.

Standing on his knees and pouting for a moment at the loss of heat, Sam whipped his shirt over his head. His hair was mussed and his eyes dark as he gazed at her from above.

She was so beautiful. Her hair was tussled, her lips parted, her big chestnut eyes darkened and yet shining with lust for him, and her chest with heaving with every breath. His eyes focused on her breasts before he smiled. "You're breathtaking, you know that?"

A blush tinted her cheeks. "You're not so bad yourself."

Sam chuckled, and didn't fight when Mercedes pulled him back down on top of her. Their lips met, but this time their kiss was sweeter, unhurried. While Sam wished to relieve her of her clothing and fuck her into the mattress, there was no rush. The throbbing in his loins could wait. There were other things that he wanted to do. Like eat her out.

Nipping at her bottom lip, he gently worked his way down her throat in kisses and towards the top of her blue shirt. The neckline was deep and the amount of cleavage he could see was glorious. Glancing up towards her, Sam flicked her left breast with the tip of her tongue. Even with her head leaned back against the couch he could still her biting her lip in anticipation.

"Mercy?" He whispered; his voice raspy and thick with arousal.

She whimpered before she looked down at him.

"Can I—"

His phone vibrated. The two of them looked over at it, and as the phone vibrated for a second time, they noticed that someone was calling him. Sam gave her an apologetic look as he reached for it. He took a second to read who was calling. "It's Puck…"

"Isn't he watching your siblings?"

Sam nodded distractedly as he hit the 'accept' button. "I'm kind of busy at the moment, Puck."

"Sammy, when are you coming home?"

Eyes widening, he got off of Mercedes and stood on the floor. "Stevie, what's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," The seven year old boy muttered. "Stace and I are watching TV."

Sam's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "Where's Puck?"

"He's talking outside with some girl."

"Are you fu—" Sam took in a breath. There was only one woman Puck would leave the apartment for, even if it was just for two minutes. "Stevie, what does she look like?"

"I don't know," Stevie said. "I think she had black hair and she was kind of tan… I didn't get to see her before he left."

Santana, he was sure of it. Even though the Hispanic woman was a lesbian, Puck had been practically in love with her for a year now. Sam didn't understand why and neither did Puck, but he was practically putty in her hands every time she came around.

Sam sighed. "How long has he been gone?"

"Five minutes?"

"Okay, I'll be over there soon. Keep the door locked until you hear the right knock, all right?" He heard Stevie hum in agreement. "I'm leaving now."

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"When do Stace and I get to meet this lady you like so much?"

Sam felt his heart almost skip a beat. He glanced at Mercedes who he had temporarily forgotten for the moment, and gulped at the forlorn look on her face. "Real soon, okay?"

"Kay. See you when you get here."

The two of them said their goodbyes and Sam hung up. Immediately his eyes fixated on Mercedes who was now sitting up and fixing her clothes.

"I'm sorry."

Mercedes waved him off with a smile. "I understand. You've been gone for a couple of hours now anyways. They're probably hungry, it's dinner time."

He bit his lip worriedly. "They, uh… They want to meet you." At that, Mercedes turned shining eyes to him.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I—uhm—I don't know when exactly it'll happen, but I wouldn't mind doing it soon. That is, if you don't mind."

Mercedes stood and took his hands in hers. She sent him a smile that seemed to erase the sadness that had been on her face a second earlier, and Sam couldn't help but give a lopsided grin in return.

"I'd love to meet them, Sam. I bet they're perfect," she whispered happily.

The shy excitement radiating off of her was so adorable he couldn't help himself. He leaned forward and took her lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. A shiver ran down his spine at the touch, and as soon as they parted, he couldn't help but smirk at the dazed expression of her face.

"Text me when you get home?"

Sam rested his forehead against hers. "Yeah… Night, Mercy."

Mercedes smiled. "Night, Sammy."

* * *

She had been staring at her phone for a good three minutes now.

It had been two days since she had last talked to Kurt and even two days since she had seen Sam. Her work and class schedule had gotten the better of her but that didn't stop her from at least texting her boyfriend. Her best friend, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

Ever since she had seen him out with Dave, they had slowly stopped talking. A part of her felt betrayed. While Dave Karofsky was clearly in the closet for the sake of his baseball career, the fact that Kurt hadn't even had the thought to tell her he was even seeing someone was what hurt the most. She confided in him and normally he did the same with her, so what was different now? Was he worried that she would go to the press and tell everyone that Dave was gay? Looking back on the shy smiles, secretive texts, and even the look Kurt had bestowed upon the Mets player told her everything. Her best friend was in love and wouldn't tell her. It's not that he didn't trust her—although maybe he didn't with Dave being in the closet—it was the fact that he wouldn't even tell her he was with someone, even if he didn't give her a name.

He had seen everything with her. He was the first one to figure out that Sam was the boy she had met in Disney all those years ago. He was the one who let her live with him and Rachel when her apartment burned down. He was the one who would help her study even when he didn't have the same classes. He was the one that she told everything to… And it hurt that he didn't do the same, even if it was the tiniest hint of what was going on.

Maybe he didn't want to be her friend anymore. If he couldn't trust her with his love life and Dave's secret, then maybe that was the first step in backing away from their friendship.

Mercedes squeezed her eyes shut.

No. That couldn't be it. She was so worried about the fact that he hadn't told her that she didn't even think about the possibility of there being another reason as to why he didn't tell her. There was likely so much more to the story than what only she saw. Simply going to the extremes was repugnant.

Sighing, Mercedes fell back against her bed—her hand holding onto her cell phone for dear life. Once she was settled, she quickly unlocked her screen and scrolled through her contacts. Kurt's name came up almost immediately, and with a press of her thumb, her phone began dialing.

Three rings in and he picked up.

"Hey."

His voice was almost monotonous. "Hey, what's up?"

"Not much. I'm trying to write up an English paper at the moment while Rachel screeches."

"Is she practicing for that one play?"

She heard him make a noise in agreement. "Her callback is next week so she's been non-stop. It's driving me crazy."

"You're the one who decided to live with her."

"Ugh. Yeah, but I didn't think it'd be hell!"

Mercedes giggled. The sound only lasted for a moment, and by the time it left her lips it was silent. Neither of them spoke, and the fact that they hadn't talked in days hung in the air. A minute passed, and she sighed. "Why didn't you tell me you were dating Dave Karofsky?"

He didn't say a word. For a second she though he had hung up until she heard him clear his throat. "How do you know that?"

"When I was on my first date with Sam we were walking back to my apartment and we saw you. You weren't holding hands but… but I knew that look in your eye," she muttered. She fiddled with the end of her shirt as she waited for a reply.

Rustling was heard before he sighed. "What look?"

"That 'you're in love' look. I haven't seen it since Blaine, but you had that look the entire time I saw you two together."

"Were you stalking us?" Kurt asked, hostile.

"No!" She almost shouted in shock. "We just happened to see you before you entered an apartment building. Kurt, are you seriously accusing me of that? Do you really think I would do that?"

Silence spread between them and Mercedes was infinitely glad they were doing this all over the phone. She couldn't even imagine how horrible it would've been in person.

"No," Kurt admitted sadly. "I just—Mercedes, you don't understand, okay?"

"Then make me understand! Kurt, I'm your best friend. I'm here for you. I always have been and always will be; don't you ever forget that."

"I won't. Mercedes… you can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, okay?"

Mercedes' eyebrows narrowed. "Of course."

"So it all started two months ago…"

* * *

It had taken a few days to actually drag up the courage for him to do this, but today was finally happening.

Mercedes was currently on her way to Washington Square Park. While she did live right across the street, she had gone to the nearest Chipotle a few blocks down to get them all food. She had told him that she didn't want to meet his siblings with their stomachs empty—they didn't have enough food for breakfast that morning—and would be back in five minutes.

Currently, he was sitting on a bench in the middle of the park watching his siblings play in front of them. He had surprised them with a ball he had kept in his backpack and the both of them were running back and forth after it. They both knew to not get too far away, even with him watching them. They were to always be within thirty of him at all times. If he was at work, they were constantly baby sat and only by people he trusted. Anything else was unthinkable.

Sam heard Stacey call his name as he stared at his phone. He looked up and smiled as he eagerly caught the basketball she had thrown to him. "You were aiming at my face, weren't you?" He laughed.

Giggling, Stacey put her hands over her mouth and began to run away from Sam who stood and attempted to tickle her. Stevie laughed beside them as he went to watch Sam's backpack while he was away just like he was taught to.

If there was money in the book bag, an Evans would watch it, no matter who it was. Stealing was rampant in their part of South Bronx and if they wanted to survive, they needed to always keep watch and be aware.

Sam bounced the ball to Stevie and ran after Stacey. Once he was within arm's length, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She squealed as he dragged her back to their bench—tickling her sides the whole way there.

"See what happens when you attempt to hit me?!" Sam said in a deep voice as he set her down on her own two feet. He continued to tickle her and laughed. "You shall rue this day, Stacey Marie Evans! Rue it, I say!"

"No!" She giggled.

Sam roared mockingly just as he was about to tickle her some more before he heard a familiar ring tone coming from his phone. Immediately, all of the blood from his face drained and he took a step back from his sister. Stevie sensed the change in atmosphere and picked up the ball.

"We'll be over there, okay, Sam?" Stevie pointed a few feet away from the bench.

Nodding, Sam dug through his book bag as the shrill sound of his phone rang through the air. "Don't leave that spot, you understand me?"

He heard both of his siblings agree as he finally grabbed hold of his phone and flipped it open. Looking in their direction, he made sure they were further away before actually acknowledging the voice on the other end of the line. "What the fuck do you want? Rent isn't due until the end of this month."

"Change of plans," a gruff voice answered. "Rent is due by the end of the week. If you don't pay up, you know what'll happen."

Sam sat down on the bench and ran a hand through his hair. "You know, I could always call the fucking police. What you're doing is ridiculous and threatening them is—"

"The police?" The man on the other end laughed, and Sam felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "The police are shit, boy. They didn't do shit the last time and they won't this time. Rent is due by the end of the fucking week or else Stace gets it. I'll wait till later to take Stevie. I need some kind of bargaining chip at all times."

"You fucking—" Sam took in a deep breath. No matter how many times he had to pay his Uncle, it always made him want to vomit. "Fine," he said finally. Everything in him wanted to say 'fuck you', but he knew what would happen. His parents were enough evidence of that. "The rent will be there on Friday. I promise."

"Good boy. See you then, Asswipe."

The line went dead, and everything in Sam wanted to run. His eyes flickered to his siblings who were playing happily a few feet front of him, and the thought of something happening to Stacey—to either of them made him want to go to their apartment and never leave.

How much longer could he hold up? Whatever funds he didn't use on groceries, rent, and other various things were used to 'pay the other rent'. While he made quite a paycheck at the fire house, it wasn't enough to sustain him and his Uncle. That was why he got the second job. It was why he was so scared to do anything but take care of his siblings. If he didn't give his Uncle the exact amount he desired, he'd kill Stacey first.

Thinking back on what he told Mercedes, he was glad he left out the part that said he was able to keep his Uncle from coming after them as long as he gave him his money every month. He was right, the police wouldn't do anything. Even if his Uncle was put in jail he'd get out and Sam would be the last one he tortured; Stevie and Stacey being the first ones, and Mercedes now that she was involved.

Mercedes. She was involved now.

"Fucking shit—"

"Hey!"

Turning around, Sam sent wide eyes Mercedes' way. He quickly masked his worry and urge to vomit and sent her a fake lopsided smile. "H-Hey… That didn't take long at all, I'm surprised."

"Me too!" Mercedes said happily as she took a seat beside him on the bench. She kissed his cheek quickly before setting down the bag of food on the ground and rubbing his knee. "Are they here? I'm so excited I didn't even eat this morning so I had to buy myself something too."

Sam pouted slightly. "You really didn't have to buy us all lunch, Mercy. They had one of the last few protein bars we had." The side-eye she gave him had him averting his eyes. "Okay… so that's not much better than no food, but we just haven't gotten to the grocery store yet."

"And that's fine," she agreed with a nod. Grabbing a hold of his hand and lacing the fingers, she squeezed in reassurance. "This was no problem at all. I make extra money all the time at my gig at TERRAIN. A few meals at Chipotle isn't anything. Now… where are your siblings, I want to meet the—"

"_**Stacey**_!"

The sound of a body hitting a car that was screeching to a halt rang loudly against all the buildings. They were only a couple of yards from the street, but it couldn't be her. It couldn't be. Stevie had to be screaming for her for something else—Stevie screamed again, only this time it was filled with sobs.

Only a second had passed and Sam's head whipped in the direction of the accident. His eyes caught sight of a little girl in the middle of the street, her blonde hair strewn about on the dirty pavement, her arm twisting in an uncomfortable way—No…

"Stacey!" Sam screamed as he jumped off of the bench and ran towards her—completely forgetting about Mercedes who was following him worriedly. He made it to her in ten seconds flat and kneeled on the ground beside her. Above him he could hear people shouting in shock and several people calling 911. The driver was vomiting from guilt a few feet away and the faint sound of Mercedes crying while calling for an ambulance was heard, but Sam didn't care.

His hand reached out for her as he whispered her name. She didn't respond, and he jerked his hand back before he could actually touch her. A tear ran down his cheek, and he felt everything around him cave in.

When the ambulance and police found them, Sam was yelling at no one but the sky as tears streamed down his face. His sobs wracking through him so harshly that he couldn't breathe.

* * *

**A/N: **CLIFFHANGERS EVERYWHERE. I also promise this will end happily. Seriously, it will. Review please.


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